ently. If I had the
money, and had married you, I should give you a check book on our joint
account."

"That's nonsense, Jane. It's this modern stuff you've picked up in
books. I loathe the new woman with her platforms and her freedoms.
Don't begin to feed me up with that stuff."

"You think it over calmly, Mr. Paxton, and you'll see it is only fair."

It was the night of the Chatfields' party, so she left him and went to
dress. She took more pains with herself than she had ever taken before.
She tried to do her hair as Jinny Chatfield did hers, because she had
heard Jerry admire it. She put on the soft, beautiful underthings with
unexpected pleasure in their daintiness.

She wore a peacock-coloured evening gown Jerry had designed for her,
long and soft and wonderful in colour. It brought out her dark hair, her
big eyes, heightened the whiteness of her skin. It emphasized a certain
stateliness in the woman, akin to the stateliness of the bird whose
plumage they had copied. Jane was surprised at herself. She felt that
she looked a different person, she hoped the new self was Mrs. Jerry
Paxton, and that her husband would be pleased with her.

In the absorption in her toilet she had entirely forgotten their late
discussion. Her side of it had been without heat, so when she stepped
into the studio, she was surprised to see Jerry's furrowed brow, as he
strode up and down the floor. She did not speak, trying to get his point
of view in the matter, so that he was abreast of her before he saw her.

"Good Lord!" he said, "I believe you _are_ a beauty, and you've been
keeping it to yourself all the time."

She smiled, used to his swift changes of humour.

"Walk off, let's get the effect of you."

She moved down the room slowly, embarrassed.

"You're great! You'll be a sensation. I'll paint you in that. Look here,
you can have the check book to-morrow. I don't know what all the fuss
was about, but you're beautiful, and you ought to have what you want."

She slowly shook her head.

"Anything the matter with that?" he cried.

"You're only giving me a bigger present than before. It isn't that you
recognize my--my equality."

"For a silent woman you can stir up more words! Don't you want the check
book?"

She came to him, laid a hand on his arm, as a mother might reassure a
sullen boy.

"Yes, I do want it. Thank you. Now, shall we go?"

Jerry was right: Jane was a sensation at the party. There is nothing
that can