ve always wanted. It's
so utterly satisfactory in every way."

"I know, and he is a darling boy. I was very frank with him, Bertha. I
didn't say I was in love with him, and he said he would teach me to be."

"It's frightfully satisfactory," continued Bertha. "Tell me Madeline,
what made you change like this?"

"Well, dear, I've been getting so unhappy: I feel Rupert has been simply
playing with me. I heard the other day that _they_ were dining out alone
together--I mean Rupert and that girl. I don't blame him, Bertha. It was
I, in a sense, who threw myself at his head. I admired and liked him and
gradually let myself go and get silly about him. But this last week I've
been pulling myself together and seeing how hopeless it was, and just as
I'd begun to conquer my feeling--to fight it down--then this nice dear
boy, so frank and straightforward and sincere, came along, and--oh! I
thought I should like it. To stop at home with mother after my sort of
disappointment seemed too flat and miserable: I couldn't bear it. Now I
shall have an object in life. But, Bertha," continued Madeline, putting
her head on her shoulder, "I've been absolutely frank, you know."

"I guessed you would be; it was like you. But I hope you didn't say too
much to Charlie. It would be a pity to cloud his pleasure and spoil the
sparkle of the fun. By the time you're choosing carpets together and
receiving your third cruet-stand you will have forgotten such a person
as Rupert Denison exists--except as a man who played a sort of
character-part in the curtain-raiser of your existence."

"Well, I hope so. But I did tell Charlie I was not in love with him, and
he said he would try to make me."

"I only hope that you're not doing it so that your mother should ask
Rupert to the wedding? Not that I myself sha'n't enjoy that."

"Honestly, Bertha, I don't think so. More than anything it's because I
want an object in life."

"Here's a letter from Nigel," said Bertha. "I expect he'll be making
this an excuse to drop in again."

"Yes; but you mustn't tease Percy, because everything happened just as
you wanted it to," said Madeline. "I really was surprised at how
suddenly and determinedly Charlie began again. He had seemed almost to
give me up. He dances the tango so beautifully; I think it all came
through that. We got on so splendidly at tango teas. At any rate, but
for that I shouldn't have seen him so often."

"It's a tango marriage," said Bertha.