"Mind now," growled one of the somewhat unwilling escort, "you girls
keep your veils down. Nix on the front-page story to-morrow!"

"Oh, we'll behave!" Mrs. Billings assured him. And slipping an
affectionate arm about Julia's waist, as they walked to the motor cars,
she murmured: "My dear, there isn't one decent woman in the place! Isn't
this fun!"

Julia did not answer. She got into the car and settled herself for the
run; so much of the day at least would be pleasant. It was the close of
a lovely summer afternoon, the long shadows of the trees lay ahead of
them on the road, the sky was palest blue and palest pink, a flock of
white baby clouds lay low against the eastern horizon. The warm air bore
the clean good scent of wilting grass and hot pine sap. The car rolled
along smoothly, its motion stirring the still air into a breeze. Mr.
Billings, sitting next to Julia, began an interested disquisition upon
the difficulties of breeding genuine, bat-eared, French bulldogs. Julia
scarcely heard him, but she nodded now and then, and now and then her
blue eyes met his; once she gratified him with a dreamy smile. This
quite satisfied Morgan Billings, to whom it never occurred that Julia's
thoughts might be on the beauties of the rolling landscape, and her
smile for the first star that came prickling through the soft twilight.

And after a while some aching need of her soul grew less urgent, and
some of the wistfulness left her face. She forgot the ideals that had
come with her into her married life, and crushed down the conviction
that Jim, like all men, liked his wife to slip into the kitchen and
concoct some little sweet for his supper, even with an artist like Foo
Ting at his command. She realized that when she declined old Mrs.
Chickering's luncheon invitation for the mere pleasure of rushing home
to have lunch with Jim, her only reward might be a disapproving: "My
Lord! Julia, I hope you didn't offend Mrs. Chickering! She's been so
decent to us!"

It was as if Julia, offering high interest on her marriage bond, had at
last learned that one tenth of what she would pay would satisfy Jim.
Feeling as she did that no demonstration on his part, no inclination to
monopolize her, would do more than satisfy her longing to be all in all
to him, it was not an easy lesson. For a while she could not believe
that he knew his own happiness in the matter, and a dispassionate
onlooker might have found infinitely pathetic the experime