"Let's get to the food," Traynor said.

Once again they set out toward the tent that covered the rows of charcoal grills. Everyone Traynor passed either nodded or called out a greeting. Traynor's wife was right: he did love this kind of public occasion. It made him feel like a king. He'd dressed casually but with decorum; tailored slacks, his elevator loafers without socks, and an open-necked short-sleeved shirt. He'd never wear shorts to such an occasion and was amazed that Cantor cared so little about his appearance.

His happiness was dampened by the approach of his wife. "Enjoying yourself, dear?" she asked sarcastically. "It certainly appears that way."

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked rhetorically. "Walk around with a scowl?"

"I don't see why not," Jacqueline said. "That's the way you are most of the time at home."

"Maybe I should leave," Beaton said, starting to step away.

Traynor grabbed her arm, holding her back. "No, I want to hear more about August statistics for tonight's meeting."

"In that case, I'll leave," Jacqueline said. "In fact, I think I'll head home, Harold, dear. I've had a bite and spoken to the two people I care about. I'm sure one of your many colleagues will be more than happy to give you a lift."

Traynor and Beaton watched Jacqueline totter away through the deep grass in her pumps.

"Suddenly I'm not hungry," Traynor said after Jacqueline had disappeared from sight. "Let's circulate some more."

They walked down by the lake and watched the volleyball game for a while. Then they strolled toward the softball diamond.

"What is it you want to talk about?" Traynor asked, marshaling his courage.

"Us, our relationship, me," Beaton said. "My job is fine. I'm enjoying it. It's stimulating. But when you recruited me, you implied that our relationship would go somewhere. You told me you were about to get a divorce. It hasn't happened. I don't want to spend the rest of my life sneaking around. These trysts aren't enough. I need more."

Traynor felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. With everything else going on at the hospital, he couldn't handle this. He didn't want to stop his affair with Helen, but there was no way he could face Jacqueline.

"You think about it," Beaton said. "But until something changes, our little rendezvous in my office will have to stop."

Traynor nodded. For the moment it was the best he could hope for. They reached the softball field and absently watched. A game was in the process of being organized.

"There's Dr. Wadley," Beaton said. She waved and Wadley waved back. Next to him was a young, attractive woman with dark brown hair, dressed in shorts. She was wearing a baseball cap turned jauntily to the side.

"Who is that woman with him?" Traynor asked, eager to change the subject.

"She's our newest pathologist," Beaton said. "Angela Wilson. Want to meet her?"

"I think that would be appropriate," Traynor said.

They walked over and Wadley did the honors. During his lengthy introduction, he extolled Traynor as the best chairman of the board the hospital had ever had and Angela as the newest and brightest pathologist.

"I'm delighted to meet you," Angela said.

A yell from the other players took Wadley and Angela away. The game was ready to start.

Beaton watched as Wadley shepherded Angela to her position at second base. He was playing shortstop.

"There's been quite a change in old Doc Wadley," Beaton commented. "Angela Wilson has evoked the suppressed teacher in the man. She's given him a new lease on life. He's been on cloud nine ever since she got here."

Traynor watched Angela Wilson field practice ground balls and lithely throw them to first base. He could well understand Wadley's interest, only unlike Beaton, he didn't attribute it purely to a mentor's enthusiasm. Angela Wilson didn't look like a doctor, at least not any doctor Traynor had ever met.

Even though David and Angela had spent four years in Boston during their residencies, they hadn't truly experienced the full glory of a New England fall. In Bartlet it was breathtaking. Each day the splendiferous color of the leaves became more intense, as if trying to surpass the previous day's efforts.

Besides the visual treats, fall brought more subtle pleasures associated with a sense of well-being. The air turned crisp and crystal clear and more pure to breathe. There was a feeling of invigoration in the atmosphere that made waking up in the morning a pleasure. Each day was filled with energy and excitment; each evening offered cozy contentment, with the sound of a crackling fire to keep the nighttime chill at bay.

Nikki loved her school. Marjorie Kleber became her teacher and, as David had surmised, she was superb. Although Nikki had always been a good student, she now became an excellent one. She looked forward to Mondays when a new schoolweek would commence. At night she was full of stories about all she had learned that day in class.

Nikki's friendship with Caroline Helmsford blossomed and the two became inseparable during after-school activities. Nikki's friendship with Arni also grew. After much discussion of the pros and cons Nikki won the right to ride her bike to school provided she stayed off main roads. It was an entirely new type of freedom for Nikki, and one that she loved. The route took her past the Yansen house, and every morning Arni waited for her. The last mile they rode together.

Nikki's health continued to be good. The cool, dry, clean air seemed therapeutic for her respiratory system. Except for her daily morning therapy in her beanbag chair, it was almost as if she were not afflicted by a chronic disease. The fact that she was doing so well was a source of great comfort to David and Angela.

One of the big events of the fall was the arrival of Angela's parents in the latter part of September. Angela had felt a great amount of ambivalence about whether to invite them. David's support had tipped the balance.

Dr. Walter Christopher, Angela's father, was reservedly complimentary about the house and the town but condescending about what he called "rural medicine." He stubbornly refused to visit Angela's lab with the excuse that he spent too much of his life inside hospitals.

Bernice Christopher, Angela's mother, found nothing to be complimentary about. She thought the house was too large and much too drafty, especially for Nikki. It was also her opinion that the color of the leaves was just as good in Central Park as in Bartlet, and that no one needed to drive six hours to look at trees.

The only truly uncomfortable episode occurred at the dinner table Saturday night. Bernice insisted on drinking more than her share of wine, and, as usual, became tipsy. She then accused David and his family of being the source of Nikki's illness.

"There's never been cystic fibrosis on our side," she said.

"Bernice!" Dr. Christopher said sharply. "Displays of ignorance are unbecoming."

Strained silence ensued until Angela managed to contain her anger. She then changed the subject to her and David's quest for furniture in the neighboring antique and used furniture shops.

Everyone was relieved when the time of the Christophers' departure arrived midday on Sunday. David, Angela, and Nikki dutifully stood alongside the house and waved until the Christophers' car disappeared down the road. "Kick me next time I talk about them coming up here," Angela said. David laughed and assured her it hadn't been that bad.

The magnificent fall weather continued well into October. Although there had been some cool days in late September, Indian summer arrived and brought days as warm as those of summer itself. An auspicious combination of temperature and moisture preserved the peak foliage long after what the Bartlet natives said was usual.