Frank's eyes held his wife's, but he showed no sign, either of flinching or yielding.

"I am sorry to have to say this to you, dear. I wish you could have been willing to do what I asked, without demanding my reason. But I can't let my wife go to Bryan; I can't let people think you and he care this much for each other. People would talk--there would be gossip. I am your husband and it is my place to safeguard you. You and Bryan never think of consequences--you are only impetuous children."

"So you mean--" Jack let her hands drop slowly from her husband's shoulders to her own sides, "you mean, that because of a little idle chatter--foolish, unkind gossip--oh, I know some of the neighbors have already talked of Bryan and me before this--you would keep me from the friend we both care so much for, at a time like this? I can't believe it of you, Frank."

"Then I am sorry to disappoint you, because I do mean it, Jack, dear. I suppose it does seem narrow and worldly to you, with your wider ideas of freedom and loyalty. But hard as this may be for us both, you must abide by my decision."

For another moment Jack remained silent, her face flooding first with color and then the color receding until she was curiously pale, so that the darkness of her lashes showed shadows on her white cheeks.

"I am sorry, Frank," she answered quietly, "but in this matter I can not accept your decision. I am a woman--not a child--and this is a matter for my conscience as well as yours. Even if I am wrong, whatever consequences I must suffer from your failing ever to see this as I do, I must go to Bryan if he is still alive."

Then Jack went quickly into her own room again.

CHAPTER XI

A SURPRISE

DURING the night Frank decided that he would not argue with Jack again the question which was troubling them both, since it was too painful for discussion.

However, he did not sleep much, although not once did his conviction that he was doing the right thing waver. Frank had the belief in his own judgment which comes to certain people with authority. Also, he disliked to suggest to his wife any of the little, ugly, suspicious things of life, which he knew her fine, clean nature would not consider. But all the more for this reason did he believe that he should protect her, even against herself.

Therefore, at breakfast the next morning, Frank made no reference to Jack's final defiance the night before. Not for an instant did he think that she had meant anything, except to have him appreciate how utterly her point of view and her inclination differed from his. This he accepted, realizing that he really could not, under the circ.u.mstances, expect anything else. But that Jack would ignore his wish--even his expressed command--was beyond his comprehension. She had always been perfectly reasonable and amenable, and there was nothing to serve him as a warning.

"I'll let you know as soon as I hear from the war office," Frank remarked, as he left for London.

Jack simply nodded quietly in response without replying. As a matter of fact she, too, had made up her mind in the night not to reopen the subject upon which she and Frank were so completely at variance.

Perhaps Jack was wrong in this and in the whole proceeding which followed. Except to say that she had the right to use her own judgment--she never attempted to justify herself.

As soon as she had arranged her household matters and had seen her children, she went into her private sitting room and, by using her telephone for an hour or more, secured the information which she desired.

She was able to locate Captain MacDonnell and also to learn that he was still alive. Moreover, Frank telegraphed this same fact while she was still at the telephone.

Then Jack sent word for Olive and Frieda to come to her bedroom, and when they arrived she carefully closed the door.

They found her packing a small bag.

"What is it, Jack? Are you going up to London to join Frank?" Frieda inquired, she and Olive having been told nothing of the contents of Captain MacDonnell's letter, nor that there was such a letter in existence.

Jack had taken off her morning dress and put on a light flannel wrapper of pale grey with a white collar, as she wished to proceed with her packing more readily.

At Frieda's question she shook her head quietly and sat down in a big chair for a moment, asking Olive and Frieda also to be seated.

"No; I am not going to Frank," she explained, "indeed, although I am forced to go up to London, I don't want him to know I am there, nor where he can find me for the next day or so. Afterwards I will, of course, write to him."

Seeing that Olive and Frieda were becoming more mystified than enlightened by her explanation, and that she was in reality talking more to herself than to them, Jack hesitated for a moment.

"Perhaps you won't approve what I am planning to do any more than Frank does," Jack continued, "but Captain MacDonnell has written to ask that I come to him in France where he may be dying, and I am going. Frank has said I must not, but I am going anyway. I told him so last night, but I don't believe he understood I really meant what I said."

Jack spoke without any nervousness or sentimental excitement. She looked unhappy, but she also looked perfectly determined.

A little too surprised to answer at once, Frieda again studied her sister's face closely.

It was Olive who protested.

"I hope you won't be angry with me, Jack, and of course I cannot hope to influence you if Frank cannot; but I don't think you ought to do so serious a thing without Frank's consent. In any case, please don't go away without his knowing. You must know that this is not right and that Frank will probably be very hurt and angry."

Jack bit her lip for an instant without replying; then she said slowly, as if she fully weighed each word she uttered:

"Of course I realize you are right, Olive, and I am afraid Frank will be both the things you say, and more than you may realize. I know, also, that I ought to see him again and tell him definitely just what I intend to do and why I intend doing it. But candidly, if I do, I fear that Frank will not permit it. He is not an American husband, and in any event there would be a scene between us. Frank would not understand at first that this time I intend to keep to my determination. We might quarrel and I don't wish that. It would make me even more unhappy and not save me in any way from Frank's displeasure."

"But, Jack, why do you think it is more important to do what Captain MacDonnell desires of you than what Frank wishes?" Frieda inquired, in the cool, matter of fact voice with which she usually, to other people's surprise, asked the leading question.

Jack did not change color. She returned her sister's look with her old clear, straightforward gaze.

"I am glad you asked me that, Frieda, dear," she responded, "because I don't want you or anybody else to think that is true. Nothing is so important to me as what Frank wishes, only this time I think he is making a great mistake, and is not being fair. Of course he does not intend this, and is thinking of me more than of any one else, but at the same time this is not a matter which I think Frank can decide for me. His judgment may be right from his point of view, but it isn't from mine. I have to do what I think is the fair thing, with the hope that I may be able to persuade Frank to see it the same way later on."

Olive made no response, but it was self evident that Jack had not convinced her.

Frieda, however, got up in her fluffy morning house gown and making a soft little rush forward, threw her arms about her sister's neck.

"Go ahead, Jack, then, and no matter what happens I'll stand by you and swear you've done the right thing to the bitter end. You have been more right than other people as long as I've known you. I would not pay any attention to Olive. I told you that Olive was getting to be an old maid and that old maids always take the men's side. Only you are not being rash, Jack, are you, so you won't have to suffer uncomfortable consequences afterwards?" Frieda concluded with a slightly plaintive and mysterious manner.

"You'll look after my babies for me, won't you, Olive? And Frieda, won't you try and get Frank into a good humor with me before I come back? I shall be gone only a few days; perhaps Bryan won't need me at all when I arrive. I am going up to London within two hours, but I'll get away from there as soon as I can and take the first channel boat possible. I must finish packing, but I'll see you again before I start."

As Jack's words and manner were both final, Olive and Frieda then left her. However, they did not separate but went together into Frieda's sitting-room.

There Frieda's expression grew as grave as Olive's.

"Somehow I wish Jack wouldn't. Maybe at the last moment she'll see Frank and change her mind," Frieda suggested, staring out at the winter landscape with her small nose pressed mournfully against the window pane like a discontented child. "I don't understand Frank's disposition very well. He is so different from Henry. Then he has changed a great deal.

We never thought of his being autocratic when Jack married him, but he seems rather that way to me lately, though he is terribly nice and I am fond of him. I wouldn't be, though, if he was ever the least bit disagreeable to Jack. She is much too good for him or any other man.

Isn't it like her to go rushing off in this quixotic fashion, knowing that lots of people will misunderstand her, just because Captain MacDonnell would like to feel her presence beside him, if anything has to happen to him? Well, I suppose that is exactly what I felt when I rushed to her the moment I left Henry? Only if Frank decides to be horrid it would be unfortunate for us both to be having trouble with our husbands at the same time. I suppose people would say it was because we did not have the proper bringing up when we were children."

"Don't be absurd, Frieda," Olive answered irritably. "Of course, Frank and Jack are not going to have any serious difficulty. She and Frank are quite different--"

Frieda swung her pretty self around.

"Don't you ever get tired of saying that to me, Olive Van Mater? Of course Jack is different, but I don't see that Frank is entirely unlike other men. Oh, I know you'll be shocked and angry at this and so would Frank and Jack, if they ever heard; but just the same I think Frank Kent is a little bit jealous of Jack's friendship for Captain MacDonnell. He would rather die than confess it to himself. I at least give him the credit for not knowing it, but it's true just the same."

"I think that is very horrid of you, Frieda."

Frieda shrugged her shoulders.

"Yes, I thought you would think so. Still, I do wish it was a whole week from today and Jack was safely home again. I am frightened about her taking such a trip alone; and as for my attempting to get my brother-in-law into a good humor after he learns that his august Highness has been disobeyed--well, the task is beyond my humble powers.

In any case, Olive, you can break the news of Jack's departure to him."