d her marriage were so difficult, so complicated
for Jane, that she sometimes wondered how she could have blundered into
such a labyrinth of problems. Not that she regretted it, but she was
forced to ponder it. Jerry was the least of her troubles, for having
married her for practical reasons, he took her for granted and made no
fuss. But big friends were not so simple-minded.

The very night of their wedding day Jane induced him to go to Bobs with
their news. He protested, tried to get out of it, but in the end Jane
prevailed. What happened in that long conference in Bobs's studio, she
never knew. She thought she heard sobs, and her heart ached for the
girl. When Jerry came back, his face was white and drawn, but his relief
was obvious. They did not speak of the matter then or ever.

The news of their marriage went through the studios like wind, and a
veritable babble of gossip and discussion was loosed. Some of the
neighbours were outraged at Jerry's performance, some of them were
amused, but after the first shock had worn off, they all accepted the
situation.

"After all, he might have married a chorus girl, or a rich fool, instead
of old Jane. We all know her, and we're used to her. I think he showed
unexpected good sense, for Jerry," was Chatfield's comment.

On one point they all agreed, that it was incredibly good management on
Jane's part to have legally attached the fickle Jerry.

Jinny Chatfield led the way, by giving a studio supper in honour of the
bride and groom, inviting the entire artist colony.

"Have you anything to wear?" Jerry asked Jane, when the invitation
arrived.

"No."

"You must have some clothes, and the proper kind of clothes. I made a
good thing out of the pageant, so we're flush now. I will design some
gowns for you."

"Oh, don't bother. I can buy some things that will do."

"You must get over that idea, Jane. As my wife, you must look like
something; you must have style, and charm."

"Those were not on your list of wife requirements," she said. "I cannot
produce either quality."

"Oh, yes, you can. I'll put my mind on it," he said, finally, and he
did.

For several days he studied her, as he studied a portrait subject. He
marked her good lines, decided about her colours. He made water-colour
sketches of the costumes, enjoying himself thoroughly. Jane evinced so
little interest that at last he exploded about it.

"Don't you care how you look?"

"I don't, myself, but your