Was Clare Perry sharing her sense of uneasiness, Grace wondered, her eyes traveling to the elderly woman who sat next to her. Baby Jenny lay asleep on the older woman's lap, the curly head pressed against Clare's thin shoulders. If she were nervous, she didn't show it, for her wrinkled, alert face reflected only peace and a strange sense of well-being very dissimilar to the emotions Grace was experiencing.

The feeling was akin to the one felt some three weeks earlier when she had, as the newly wed Mrs. Edwards, timidly entered the man's apartment. There had been little cause for concern, as Alex soon made obvious. After a light evening supper served by the loyal Lee Wong, he had, with a look of thinly veiled amusement, presented her with a key to the apartment and casually announced that he and his house-boy were going to be spending the night at a nearby hotel.

When he had returned late the next morning it was with all the children and most of their meager belongings in tow.

By early afternoon he had so keyed up the children on the idea of a house of their own, that it somehow seemed natural when he suggested that Peter and James fly with him halfway across the country to Oregon on what he called a home hunting expedition.

After years of watching Mr. Edwards make quick decisions and implement them with equal speed, it still took her breath to watch him pack a few of his own things, even less of the boys, saying they would replenish their clothing once they arrived at their destination, and began leading the boys out the door.

"Don't fret, my dear," he'd said as she stood at the doorway for one last farewell. "Even though Lee Wong has decided he doesn't want to leave the city and his own family, I shall take care of the boys, and you can be sure that they shall see I behave. We'll keep in touch." With that light promise he had planted a firm but brief kiss on her lips and left.

Things had seemed horribly empty and quiet that evening, even with Lee Wong, Peggy, Debby, and baby Jenny for company. That, however, was the last piece of boredom Grace was to experience. For before his departure, Alex had insisted that she go out and buy herself and the girls new wardrobes. "I want my wife to look like my wife, not a penny pinching secretary," he had said with such conviction that Grace had not felt in the least bit guilty when, with Peggy and often Clare Perry along for company and advice, she had shopped at the best stores, buying outfits that would have turned Pat green with envy. Never again, she promised herself, would she give her husband cause to criticize the way she dressed. Every one, including the reserved Peggy, had enjoyed shopping, though the young girl and Grace had more than once clashed on what was appropriate attire for a twelve year old.

Still, the times she looked forward to the most had been the evenings, and the long distance phone calls from Alex. He would talk briefly to Peggy and then Debby in turn before devoting the rest of his time to Grace, seeking her opinions on the various homes he had inspected that day.

Last week during their talk he had told her to hire a housekeeper. When she had protested, she had been abruptly silenced. The house they had settled on was large, too large for one woman to try and keep up on her own. He wouldn't have his wife working herself to death trying to cook and clean up a house full of children. She would have no time for either the children or himself if she were to try.

"Very well, Alex," she had said, seeing the wisdom in his reasoning. "I'll line some women up for you to interview when you return."

"You're my wife, Mrs. Edwards, not my secretary," he had come back crisply. "You'll be the one working most closely with the woman. I've always trusted your judgment where people are concerned. Chose one you think is right."

But that bit of advice had been much easier said than done. For, after interviewing over a dozen women of various ages and backgrounds, Grace had despaired of ever finding a housekeeper that fit their needs. She had just finished listening to a talkative young girl who thought it would be simply marvelous to live with such a charming lady and to care for such cute little girls. A home in the country? Why, that sounded so cozy. Housework? She loved it. Cooking? That was something she would love to learn.

As Peggy had dutifully escorted the girl from the study, Grace had leaned back in the heavy chair and closed her eyes. Such false enthusiasm had proven to be the rule, not the exception. Was it possible that she would have to tell Alex that she had failed to find a suitable helper, or would she have to settle for someone she really didn't want to hire?

"Visitors welcome?"

At the hesitant question Grace had opened her eyes and smiled.

"I'm always glad to see you, Clare. Especially after another day of frustrating interviews."

"Things aren't going so well I gather," the woman had said, coming in to take the chair across from her. "Do you think, perhaps, you're being too critical?" She had asked in an open way that only true friends can without offending.

"Perhaps. But I only want the best for Alex and the children. Everyone has been so," she had paused searching for the right word. "So extreme. Either they simply gush pleasure, or they sit slouched in the chair with almost rude indifference."

"Well, you always have been a shrewd judge of character," the older woman had said. "I wonder what you would think of the men who have been interviewing me."

"Still no sign of a job, Clare?" Grace had sympathized.

"It's not easy to grow old and discover no one wants you anymore, Grace. It's been years since Mr. Edwards took me on, and I was near retirement age then. Just because the calendar says I'm a certain age, does that mean that I'm no longer of any use?"

The hurt and bitterness behind her friend's voice had pained Grace, though she had tried to smile as she responded, "You, Clare Perry, have one of the sharpest minds I know. I only wish the women I've interviewed had showed half your competence and vitality."

"Are you sure, Grace?" she'd demanded. "What if a woman my age were to offer you her services? Can you honestly say her age wouldn't become a factor in your decision?"

"I believe I can honestly say that if all her other qualifications filled my needs, age wouldn't enter into my decision. As a matter of fact," Grace had said, slim fingers tapping her desk as she considered. "As a matter of fact, I think I am about to have a brainstorm. A marvelous brainstorm."

That had been nearly two weeks ago. Now, here they were onboard an airplane headed toward the west coast of Oregon, she and Clare Perry. Flying into an uncertain future and new jobs that were bound to prove challenging for both of them.

A white snow capped mountain loomed below them as the plane sank toward the Portland airport.

How good it would be to see the boys, Grace thought, trying to ignore any thought of Alexander Edwards. If she felt nervous about seeing him again it was, no doubt, due to the fact that she had neglected to inform him that it was Clare Perry she had hired to be his housekeeper.

Would he object to her choice? It hadn't seemed to bother him when she had mentioned that she had found an older woman whom both he and the children would like. Exactly why she hadn't mentioned that that same older woman was his former employee she hadn't bothered to ask herself.

As the plane bumped its wheels on the ground she tried not to think of his reaction, tried not to think at all, but just relax and take each hurdle as she came to it.

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