How grateful I was to Maggie.

I will repay her, I thought. I will go back to the stage. As soon as I am strong enough, I will go to the theater and ask for a part. The thought cheered me considerably.

I wanted to talk to Maggie about it.

I did, and she listened.

"Yes," she said. "When you are well enough. It would be good for you. There is something I have to tell you, Sarah. It may be something of a surprise ... but I think you will be pleased ... when you really get used to it."

"Maggie, what is it?"

She seemed reluctant to say, which was unlike her. If she had news—particularly if it were good news—she could scarcely wait to impart it.

She cleared her throat and looked at me anxiously.

"When the doctor was here ... well, he examined you, of course ... and he thought that you showed signs of ... well.

the fact is, he thought, and now he is sure, that you are going to have a baby."

I stared at her in amazement.

"He did not think he was wrong, but, of course ..."

"Maggie," I gasped, "it can't be true."

"Why not? It's likely enough. It's a long way off yet ... and, er, there's time to plan."

I was speechless. A baby? Jack's child. I had said this was an end, and it was really a beginning.

The shock had passed. A baby, I thought, my own child. At first I was terrified and I began to think of all the difficulties. And then a sense of wonder overcame me. A child to contemplate ... my very own child.

I could see that Maggie was excited.

"A child in the house," she said. "That'll liven us up a bit. I haven't told Martha yet. I wonder what she'll say. Fuss around, I'll swear, but once the little one's here ... Sarah, you're afraid. Don't be. We will manage."

As we grew accustomed to the idea the excitement grew and Maggie and I could talk of little but the child.

"We'll have to change our ideas a little, I fear," she said. "You had been home to your family, remember? That accounted for your absence. We'll have to have a husband now. What of this? You went home and married a long-time sweetheart whom you had known from childhood. Soon after the wedding he was recalled to the army. He is a soldier. He's serving with the army in Holland. When there comes a suitable time we shall have to kill him off. Yes, that's the story. We don't want our little one to be called bastard."

"And Martha and Rose ..."

"Oh, they know too much. So it will have to be the truth for them. We can trust them. They like to share the family secrets. It makes them feel at home. Leave it to me. All you have to do is get well. You'll have to take double care of yourself now. Our baby has to have a good welcome when he or she arrives. Which do you want, Sarah, a boy or a girl?"

"I had not thought of that. It does not seem of any importance. All I want is the baby."

Maggie nodded, contented.

She knew, and I knew, that I had taken the first steps away from that disastrous farce of a marriage. Difficulties might lie ahead, but we could face them. The future would hold my child and that was more important to me—and to Maggie—than anything.

Now that I was well, there was so much to do, announced Maggie.

She had called Martha and Rose to her and talked to them very seriously, telling them that she expected their absolute loyalty. This was their home and they should not forget it. Then she explained about the baby. Their reaction was much as she had predicted. I knew that my baby would have a good welcome from all in this house.

Martha's comment was: "We shall need good fresh milk. I've always said that's the best food to give a baby."

Maggie explained about the imaginary soldier who was in Holland in the King's army. Martha nodded wisely. It would not be good for the baby if the truth were known. Maggie had settled that matter and now the whole household was eagerly awaiting the coming of the child.

Maggie had said that I must give up all thoughts of acting until after the baby was born.

"You'll have to cosset yourself, especially after that illness you had. That could have weakened you a little. Mind you, you're a strong girl. It'll be all right. But we'll take no risks."

I thought of Jack only rarely now. If he saw me now he would certainly not want me and I was sure he would not welcome the encumbrance of a child. Well, I could do without him. I had my very good friends whom I could trust completely. I need never think of him again.

The story of my fictitious husband had been accepted by the few to whom it had been necessary to tell it. Life was going peacefully along. I was getting larger every day and they all regarded me with delight. I was pampered by everyone in the house. There was little talk of anything but the coming baby.

The midwife whom Maggie had procured pronounced herself pleased with my condition.

"I reckon it will be an easy birth," she said.

And so, on a warm June afternoon in the year 1667, my child was born.

They held her up for me to see her as I lay exhausted after my ordeal.

She appeared to have been well equipped with everything that a child should bring into the world.

I held out my arms and they laid her in them. At that moment I could forget everything but that I had my child.

I had said I wanted her named after Kitty, who had been Katherine.

We called her Kate.

She was indeed a lovely child. She was of good temper, more given to smiles than tears. She was bright and very soon knew each one of us. We adored her and wondered how we had managed to live without her. As for myself, I could not be unhappy since I had Kate and could not entirely regret anything that had given her to me. She dominated the household, and if Martha or Rose were missing one could be sure to find them with the baby, even if she were sleeping.

Those first months after her birth were completely absorbed by her, but one day Maggie asked me if I had ever thought of returning to the theater.

The idea had entered my mind. I wanted to earn money to pay Maggie for all she had given us, although she was always impatient when I talked of this. It was certainly not for that reason she suggested it. She knew what it had meant to me, and I think she felt that now Kate was not exactly a baby and there were three other people in the house whose greatest pleasure it was to care for her, there was no reason why I should not have a career in the theater as well as a daughter.

"It is always well," she said, "not to stay away too long. If you are building up a name you do it gradually and it does not help to have people forget you. You have had a year or so away. That could easily be remedied. It's when it gets too long that it begins to be difficult to return. As Kate grows up she'd be proud of her famous actress mother, you know."

"There's something on your mind, Maggie," I replied. "I know you."

"Well, what do you think? I ran into Jenny Crowther yesterday. Have I ever mentioned Jenny Crowther?"

"Was she not one of your old theatrical friends?"

"Those were the days! She married and went to live in the country somewhere. Her niece is Rose Dawson. You've heard of her."

"Yes, of course. She's playing at the Duke's now."

"That's right. Well, Jenny had it from her that Killigrew is putting on The Siege of Rhodes, and he's looking for someone to play lantha,"

"That's a good part."

"Well, why not go for the good ones? If I asked Jenny to get Rose to put in a word for you, I reckon Killigrew would see you. And you'd soon convince him that lantha is the part for you."

I felt a tremendous excitement creep over me.

"Rose is in high favor at the moment. She did well in The Rivals ... you know, it was The Two Noble Kinsmen but Davenant and Pryde added some songs and dancing. You remember 'My Lodging Is on the Cold Ground,' the song Moll Davis was singing when the King noticed her. And Nell Gwynne used to make a parody of it in her part over at the King's. That sort of thing does something for a play ... But what I'm telling you is that Rose's recommendation would count for something."

"Maggie, it sounds exciting."

"Well, there is no harm in trying. I'll speak to Jenny."

She did, with the result that I was interviewed and given the part.

So I was back again. My tragedy had faded far into the past. I had an enchanting baby. True, I was an unmarried mother, which gave me considerable qualms, in spite of the fact that Maggie had endowed me with a husband who had been fighting in Holland and who had now been conveniently killed off by Maggie's fertile imagination, and the past was safely buried. One cannot mourn forever, and Maggie, eternally optimistic, pointed out that as we learn a great deal from our mistakes, they are often blessings in disguise.

lantha was quite a success. Davenant was pleased with my performance, and I knew there would be other parts.

Then one evening, to my dismay, when I was coming out of the theater I saw Jack.

I stopped short. I wanted to run. I could not, of course. There was only one course to take. I must face him.

"Well met, Sarah," he said.

"No," I heard myself say, as coolly as I could. "I would say ill met."

"Sarah, try to understand."

"I have understood too well and I am in a hurry."

"You can give me a moment."

"I have no time at all to give you."

I was feeling calmer. It was the sight of his handsome face that brought the memories rushing back. I had loved him. I had been so happy with him—until I had discovered him for what he really was: a rake, a libertine, a man who would he and cheat and not care what he did to other people merely to gain his own ends.

"I just want a little of your time. You are not happy without me.

"You ever had a too high opinion of yourself. I am very happy to be away from you, thank you."

"I do not believe that."

"Believe what you will."

I turned, but he was beside me, laying a hand on my arm.

"I have been hearing news of you."

"I will say goodbye."

"Not yet." There was a note of authority in his voice and he was holding my arm. "I have heard that you have a child."

I forgot my cool dignity for a moment. "Who told you that?" I demanded.

"My dear, it is not difficult to get news of the rising star actress Sarah Standish."

"Yes, it's true," I said.

"A little girl, Kate. She is mine, of course."

"She is nothing to do with you."

I saw a smile touch his mouth. "So, it was some other. You left me to go to a lover."

"I will hear no more of this nonsense."

"I know that child is mine as well as yours."

I was afraid. He could not take Kate from me. That could not be. Besides, what would he do with a child? Still, I was trembling.

"You forfeited all rights," I said.

"It was you who left me, remember?"

"You deceived me. You ruined my life for a whim. The kindest thing I could ask you to do to repay me in some small way is to go away and never attempt to see me again."

He looked stunned. He was looking at me with a certain sadness in his eyes. I felt myself relenting a little. Then I thought: He is but playing a part. He is only trying to discomfort me. He has no right whatsoever to see Kate. I should not allow myself to be persuaded by him. I should have learned my lesson by now.

I turned and left him standing there.

The encounter had shaken me. I went straight home and told Maggie about it.

Maggie was perturbed. She did not like his bringing Kate into the matter.

Then she soothed herself. "Such as he are not concerned with children. He was just trying to trick you into taking him back," she said.

I noticed that she was very watchful with Kate. Martha and Rose were not allowed to take her out. Only Maggie and I were allowed to do that.

But after a while, when there were no further developments, we forgot about my encounter with Jack Adair.

We had slipped into a peaceful routine. Kate had made such a difference to our lives. Maggie said what we had missed before was a child in the house.

Kate was growing up fast. She was no longer a baby but a sturdy little girl, amusing us all with her quaint observations on life. Kate liked to learn about everything and Maggie and I were teaching her to read and to write, to which she took with great enthusiasm.