knowing. Not guessing that you-

Gratitude for his kindness flooded me.

"You've been kind and good to me, Granger," I assured huskily. "You've been-" And then my voice broke. At that moment I felt toward my husband as a very little girl feels toward a kind father who doesn't scold her when she expects to be scolded.

Granger was to me like a father. Like the way a father should be, kind. And I'd never had a father's influence. I knew that my association with Granger was a beneficial experience in my life.

"Now I understand something that puzzled me," Granger said. "Off and on, ever since our marriage, you've had nightmares." He turned now toward the doctor. "When Melba's asleep she often sobs and cries. And calls out for someone named Jan. I used to wonder about it. I tried to soothe her at the times when she was upset. And I never asked questions when she was awake. But sometimes I wondered if she'd ever known a boy named Jan."

"I doubt if she was conscious of the nightmares the following day," the doctor said, stroking his chin. "Her conscious mind fought very hard to block out this constant yearning for the girl she loves. She thought it was her duty as a wife to forget the past. She tried. But she could never do it. Her love for Jan is rooted in the very deepest part of her."

"I realize many things now," Granger said, passing his hand across his perspiring forehead. Then he smiled a tremulous smile at me. "Little Melba, I'm going to try and help you to live a normal life," he promised. "I mean the kind that is normal for you." Then he caught my trembling hand. "Forgive me for using that word that is hateful to you.'

My fingers clung to his. "Granger dear," I said, tenderly. "It isn't hateful any more. The way you just used it--makes it beautiful!"

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"You're a very broadminded, understanding man, the doctor said approvingly. He swallowed hard.

"Oh, Granger-you're a real friend!" I buried my face in my arms and wept with relief.

That night Granger moved his things into the small room where we had the TV and the record player, and his desk. He slept on the divan there. I was

I lay in the bed we had shared for two years. alone for the first night since we had been married, with the exception of the few times when my husband had gone to Denver on business. I stared at a vine the breeze was blowing across the window, and I thanked God that there are fine men in this world, men like Granger, who can understand those of us nature has made by a pattern that is too seldom understood. I hoped that God would reward Granger someday, by giving him the love of a woman who could be all that a wife should be... As for myself, I could not think ahead then....I was still too confused by the sudden upheaval of the life I had tried to live to please others.

Thoughts of Jan surged to me. I pushed them away. I couldn't go back into the past and find her. I'd do it if I could. But Jan had gone on--away from me. I prayed that she would know happiness. And yet I felt that with no one else, would it be the same for Jan as it had been with me. We belonged together.

Now that my marriage to Granger was over, what would I do? Where would I go?

As if he sensed my turmoil, Granger came to the door.

"Melba," he called. "Don't worry about anything. We're friends. We'll always be friends."

I sprang out of bed and rushed to the door. I flung it open and caught at his hands. To me, he looked like a saint from Bible illustrations. His graying hair was rumpled and the deep blue of his bathrobe gleamed

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