t six-thirty the following morning Paula left Long Meadow for the office, looking coolly elegant in a smartly tailored black linen suit and a crisp white silk shirt.

After a restless night of tossing and turning and worrying, she had risen earlier than usual. Only Nora had been astir at that hour, preparing the babies' bottles, and after she had showered and dressed, Paula had spent fifteen tranquil minutes with her and the twins in the nursery before going downstairs to the kitchen. As she had drunk a quick cup of tea, she had scribbled a note to Jim, explaining that she was facing a hectic day at the store and wanted to get a head start.

This was only partially true. Paula had the most urgent need to unscramble her jumbled thoughts and take stock of the situation. She could only do that when she was alone— and the only time she was not surrounded by people was either when she was gardening or driving.

As she pointed the car down the gravel driveway, she realized she was relieved to be escaping from the house. It seemed more suffocating than ever to her today. Although she enjoyed the grounds and the conservatory, Long Meadow would never really be her favorite place, despite the more attractive ambiance she and her mother had created. As Grandy had said, "You've both done your best, but you can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear."

And whatever Jim believed, the house teas oppressive. Her grandmother felt the same way as she did and rarely came, preferring instead to have them over to Pennistone Royal. This aside, it was extremely difficult to run efficiently. It was poorlv designed, had endless staircases, winding corridors, and dark landings. Meg and the daily char, Mrs. Coe, were constantly complaining, and even Nora, who was younger than they, had taken to grumbling about her aching legs lately. Jim made light of their complaints. He loved Long Meadow, and she knew he would not consider moving, so there was no point in dreaming about another house, one which was more practical and suitable for their needs.

He was selfish.

So jolted was Paula by this unexpected thought that she stiffened and gripped the steering wheel tighter. She stared ahead at the road, her eyes momentarily glazed by her troubles. What an unkind and disloyal thing to think, she eluded herself. But try though she' did to convince herself she was wrong about Jim, she did not succeed. It was the truth. For months she had tried to ignore this unfortunate and dismaying characteristic in him, had made perpetual excuses for him. Suddenly this was no longer possible. She had to stop deluding herself about Jim, look at the facts unflinchingly, accept that he only ever did what he wanted to do. He was deceptive in that he gave the impression of trying to please, especially with colleagues and friends and when small irrelevant matters were involved. Then he bent over backward to be obliging. When it came to major issues, he dug his feet in and always strove to get his own way, regardless of anyone else's wishes. That was the dichotomy in his nature, and it had begun to worry her.

Paula sighed to herself. They were both stubborn, but at least she was not inflexible. With a start, Paula recognized that Jim was absolutely rigid. This trait had been staring her glaringly in the face for months, yet she had been reluctant, perhaps even afraid, to acknowledge it.

She began to scrutinize the pattern of their life together for the past year, and now discovered that she could remember innumerable examples of that ingrained rigidity. There had been his refusal pointblank to accept a new plane from Grandy, not to mention the fuss about their wedding plans. He had been adamant when her grandmother had asked him to get rid of his rickety old four-seater plane, and suggested he buy a more up-to-date jet at her expense. Being conscious of his pride, Grandy had handled it diplomatically, had pointed out that she felt she should have a company plane at her immediate disposal, and who better to select the best piece of equipment and make the purchase than he. But he would not budge from his position, and Emma had thrown up her hands in exasperation at his intractability.

Almost immediately afterward he had told her parents and Grandy that he wanted to have their marriage ceremony at Fairley Church. They had all three been staggered by this suggestion, and so had she. Apart from the fact that the village church was far too small to accommodate some three hundred guests, her parents and Emma had wanted the wedding to be held in London, to be followed by a reception at Claridge's Hotel. It had been especially important to her grandmother that she have a lovely, elegant, and glamorous wedding. It was her mother who had scotched Jim's idea. Daisy had told him that the marriage arrangements were hardly his concern, since they were always the prerogative of the bride's parents. Clever, clever Daisy. She had won by simply pointing out the correct etiquette, the proper form. In • this instance he had had no option but to back down.

But he had made a swift recovery, and the next battle had been about Long Meadow. Jim had been the winner that time but in a sense by default. She had only agreed to live there to keep the peace and also because her grandmother had told her to be accommodating, "Jim's ego and his masculinity are on the line," her grandmother had remarked. "I agree the house is a monstrosity, but he has a genuine need to be the provider, to give you a home on his own terms. You'd better accept the situation for now."

For this same reason she and Grandy had gone along with his wish to have the twins christened at Fairley Church, even though Emma had initially balked at this idea, had hardly been overjoyed to trek all the way to Fairley, of all places. She rarely went there these days.

Paula slowed down and stopped at a traffic light, mulling over this first year of marriage. People said it was the most difficult year, and perhaps it was inevitable that there would be a few unpleasant revelations. Whizzing up the short hill, she cruised past the Stray and turned onto the main road to Leeds. I suppose I might as well accept that the honeymoon is now definitely over, she muttered under her breath, then laughed ironically. He had even been contrary about their actual honeymoon, had whisked her off to the Lake District instead of to the sunny south of France. Wanting to please him, in love and feeling euphoric, she had accepted his decision, even though France had been more appealing to her. They had been greeted by inclement weather and thunderstorms when they had reached Windermere, and had spent the week shivering in front of the fire in their hotel suite, or in bed making love.

Her thoughts automatically settled on their sex life. She was in love with Jim and wanted him physically, had normal desires and a healthy attitude about sex. But lately it was growing more and more apparent to her that Jim was abnormally driven. His marathons were becoming tiring, even tedious. There were other things in a marriage as well as sex. He was insatiable, and endless, mindless sex was not particularly fulfilling to her. Sometimes she found herself wishing he had more finesse, a better understanding of a woman's body— her body, her needs. Loath though she was to admit it, she knew deep within herself that Jim was just as selfish in bed as he was out of it, always pleasing himself, never giving a thought to her. It was growing harder and harder for her to cope with his need to make love all the time. Her work was demanding, and she craved sleep, but he was seemingly tireless.

Sudden anger flared in Paula as she considered the way he used sex as an antidote for their rows. Her resentment was increasing, because it was manipulative. It seemed incredible to her that he believed their problems evaporated into thin air once they were locked in a tight embrace. Of course that didn't happen; their difficulties were still there afterward. And naturally they remained unsolved.

Oh God, if only he would talk to me, Paula thought. He should communicate. Instead he retreats behind his charm and his jokes, and whenever I try to explain my feelings, he laughs me off. Yes, Jim had a childish tendency to pretend their differences did not exist. She could never get him to open up, try though she did. It occurred to her that she had reached an impasse. She had come to a turning point in her marriage. And after only one year, she said to herself wonderingly. Had she made a terrible mistake? Was divorce the only solution?

Horror trickled through her at the mere idea of breaking up and was quickly replaced by a rush of panic. Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead, and she began to tremble inside. Slowing the car to a crawl, she pulled onto the first side road she saw and parked. Leaning forward, she rested her head on the steering wheel and closed her eyes. Divorce was unthinkable. She was stunned that it had even crossed her mind a moment ago. She loved him... truly, truly loved him. And in spite of their problems they were compatible in so many important ways. And there were the twins... Lome and Tessa needed a father, needed Jim as much as she needed him.

Instantly it struck her that she had been unfair to her husband, adding up his faults, mentally compiling lists of grudges against him when he was not present to defend himself. He was a nice man, a good man, and he had so many lovely qualities. She owed it to him to be scrupulously honest with herself about his manifold attributes.

Silently she began to tick them off in her head. He understood about her work. He appreciated her desire to be out there in the marketplace. Certainly he. never interfered with her career; he did not grumble about her preoccupation with the stores, the late hours she kept. At least he's an enlightened man in that respect, she acknowledged swiftly, and he allows me to be myself. He's not threatened by me either. Furthermore he was obviously cut out to be a marvelous father; that was already evident. There was no question that he adored her, was devoted to her. Jim would never be a philanderer who played around with other women. He was strictly a one-woman man and totally geared to his family and family life, and she was thankful of that.

Straightening up, Paula smoothed her hair into place. I've got to make a go of this relationship, she told herself. It's vitally important to me, and I know it's essential to Jim. She remembered something her grandmother had once said... that it was always the woman who made a marriage work. Paula believed this. Her grandmother was wise and experienced; she had lived it all, seen it all. No one knew better about marriage than Emma Harte.

Paula resolved to be' as understanding of Jim as she possibly could. She would put extra effort and time into their relationship. She would be loving and tolerant. It would be immature of her if she did not. After all, everybody had faults, and you didn't stop loving a man simply because he had a few imperfections. You loved him in spite of them.

Turning the ignition key, Paula started the car and backed out of the side road. Her mind began to revolve around her grandmother and Jim's resignation as she sped down the road heading in the direction of Alvvoodley. Convinced though she was that Jim had totally misjudged Emma's reaction to his decision, she nevertheless hoped that her grandmother was not angry with him. She did not want Grandy to think badly of Jim.

Less than half an hour later, Paula sat behind her desk in her office at the Harte store in Leeds, talking to her grandmother, whom she had reached at the flat in Belgrave Square. " "I'm sorry to wake you up," Paula apologized, although she strongly suspected she had not done so.

Emma's warm and vibrant voice flowed over the wire and confirmed this as she said, "I was having my morning tea and waiting for your call. You want to talk to me about Jim, his resignation, don't you?"

"Yes, Gran. I was a bit floored last night when he told me what he'd done and naturally rather upset. I feel he's let you down and at the worst time, when you're about to go away. I can't help thinking that you must be disappointed in him."

"A little," Emma said. "However, I decided not to persuade Jim to retain the managing directorship... not under the circumstances. His heart's not in the job, Paula, and that's not good. It's better he steps down."

"Yes," Paula agreed quietly. "What about Winston? Is he frightfully annoyed?"

"Well, he was at first, and I thought for a moment he was going to explode when I told him he would have to take on the job. But he agreed almost at once. There's no one else, as you well know."

"I feel awful about this situation, Grandy. There's not much I can say except that I'm sorry. Jim shouldn't have done this in my opinion. I think it was irresponsible. He doesn't agree with me, of course." There was a fractional pause, and then Paula added, "I'm not trying to make excuses for him, Gran, but I've come to realize that Jim isn't like us, you know, as far as duty is concerned. We've all done jobs we haven't really liked during the years we've all worked for you. Those jobs never killed us, and we learned a lot from the experience. I know I shouldn't make comparisons, but last night when Jim was talking I kept thinking of little Emily— her example. She's been a brick, the way she's gone into Genret and with the best will in the world."

"That's true," Emma agreed, then added swiftly in a kinder tone, "You mustn't be too hard on Jim, Paula dear. People do have their limitations, and remember, he wasn't brought up in the same way as you and your cousins. Anyway, let's be grateful for his talent as a managing editor. He's brilliant, the best, in the business, and that's why I gave him the job years ago. Now, if he'd resigned from that position, we would have a major tragedy on our hands."

"I realize that. He does love the newspaper business, and that's why he's so successful as a journalist." Paula was beginning to feel easier in her mind, and she went on, "I have to defend Jim in one respect... he's been honest with you, and we must give him credit for that. He's as straight as a die, Grandy."

"You don't have to tell me, Paula. Jim's not duplicitous, far from it, and I told him yesterday morning that I appreciated his truthfulness. Half-hearted, unenthusiastic executives spell disaster to me."

"Then you're not too angry with him?" Paula asked, clutching the phone tensely, holding her breath.

'That was only a passing reeling yesterday. It quickly dissipated," Emma said. "We can't let emotions take charge of us in business, we must always deal from intelligence; but then I've told you that all of your life. Sorry to keep repeating myself."

"That's all right, and I must admit I'm relieved you're taking this so well, Grandma. He'd never intentionally do anything to

hurt or upset you."

Brushing this remark aside, considering it unimportant, Emma said, "I want you to relax, Paula. This is not really your problem. Anyway, we do have everything under control. Actually, when I was talking to Winston after Jim had left, it occurred to me—and rather forcefully—that things are not going to be much different at Consolidated. Winston was sitting there, grousing away, going on and on ad inftnitum about being overworked, listing his present duties, demanding to know how I expected him to 'cope with everything. And as he talked his head off, I began to realize that he's actually been carrying the administrative and business load at Consolidated for-the longest time. He's been functioning as managing director without knowing it. I told him so, told him he was now getting the title to go with his tremendous responsibilities, plus a large raise in salary. You know Winston lias a great sense of humor, and he began to laugh. He said, 'Damn it, Aunt Emma, we both think we're so smart, so why haven't we realized before today how brilliant I am.' So, darling, you don't have to be concerned about me, Consolidated, or Winston either."

"I'm glad to hear that, Grandy. Look, can I ask you something? It's about the shares in Consolidated. Why are you changing your will and leaving your interest to the twins?"

"What a funny question. I thought I'd made it clear, thought that you'd understood me. Surely it's obvious—I'm leaving my shares in the newspaper company to the twins because they are your children, Paula. What other reason could there be?" Emma murmured, sounding extremely perplexed.

"None—I just wondered, that's all," Paula answered. "However, it struck me the other day that your decision might have something to do with Jim. You know, because he's a Fairley. I mean, if his grandfather had hung on to the Gazette, it would have been his today, wouldn't it?"

Emma burst into peals of laughter. "I very much doubt that," she gasped. Immediately recovering herself, she said, "Edwin Fairley would have lost the paper eventually, as I've told you before. Besides, the Fairleys owned only the Yorkshire Morning Gazette, none of the other papers in the Consolidated chain. You know I acquired those myself and with the help of my brothers." Her incredulous laughter reverberated down the wire again. "You can't possibly think that I feel guilty about the Fairleys," she spluttered,' obviously highly entertained by this idea.

"Of course I don't," Paula exclaimed heatedly, wishing she had never brought the subject up, realizing that she had been right and Jim wrong all along.

"I should hope not, my darling girl," Emma said, stifling her merriment. "I've always admitted that I gave the Fairleys a few nudges and very sharp ones at that, as they waltzed down the path to folly which they had chosen for themselves. But I can assure you that I never once lost a wink of sleep about any of my actions. I was delighted 1 was able to turn the tables on them, come out the big winner. So don't think for one minute that I'm troubled by any guilty feelings about a lot of dead Fairleys or Jim for that matter. And if he has suggested such a thing to you, you can tell him from me that he's wrong, quite wrong."

"Oh no, he didn't bring it up," Paula lied smoothly, knowing such an admission would annoy her grandmother. "It was merely a thought that flitted through my active brain."

Emma chuckled under her breath at Paula's hurried response, uncertain of its veracity. She said, "I hope you feel better now that we've cleared the air about Jim's resignation."

"Yes, Gran, you always help me to get everything in its right perspective."