s' when they were in the city, genuinely, though in an exterior
way, but gradually we almost ceased to keep up an intercourse which
was a little effort on both sides. Miss Forsythe came back from her
infrequent city visits weary and sad.

Was Margaret content? I suppose so. She was gay; she was admired; she
was always on view in that semi-public world in which Henderson moved;
she attained a newspaper notoriety which many people envied. If she
journeyed anywhere, if she tarried anywhere, if she had a slight
illness, the fact was a matter of public concern. We knew where
she worshiped; we knew the houses she frequented, the charities she
patronized, the fetes she adorned, every new costume that her wearing
made the fashion. Was she content? She could perhaps express no desire
that an attempt was not made to gratify it. But it seems impossible to
get enough things enough money, enough pleasure. They had a magnificent
place in Newport; it was not large enough; they were always adding to
it--awning, a ballroom, some architectural whim or another. Margaret had
a fancy for a cottage at Bar Harbor, but they rarely went there. They
had an interest in Tuxedo; they belonged to an exclusive club on Jekyl
Island. They passed one winter yachting among the islands in the eastern
Mediterranean; a part of another sailing from one tropical paradise to
another in the West Indies. If there was anything that money could not
obtain, it seemed to be a place where they could rest in serene peace
with themselves.

I used to wonder whether Margaret was satisfied with her husband's
reputation. Perhaps she mistook the newspaper homage, the notoriety, for
public respect. She saw his influence and his power. She saw that he was
feared, and of course hated, by some--the unsuccessful--but she saw
the terms he was on with his intimates, due to the fact that everybody
admitted that whatever Henderson was in "a deal," privately he was a
deuced good fellow.

Was this an ideal married life? Henderson's selfishness was fully
developed, and I could see that he was growing more and more hard. Would
Margaret not have felt it, if she also had not been growing hard, and
accustomed to regard the world in his unbelieving way? No, there was
sharpness occasionally between them, tiffs and disagreements. He was a
great deal away from home, and she plunged into a life of her own, which
had all the external signs of enjoyment. I doubt if he was ever very
selfish whe