as telling me at
dinner how fortunate I was to have married you."

Maude passed this.

"I can't see why she accepted Hambleton Durrett. It seems horrible that
such a woman as she is could have married--just for money.

"Nancy has an odd streak in her," I said. "But then we all have odd
streaks. She's the best friend in the world, when she is your friend."

"I'm sure of it," Maude agreed, with a little note of penitence.

"You enjoyed it," I ventured cautiously.

"Oh, yes," she agreed. "And everyone was so nice to me--for your sake of
course."

"Don't be ridiculous!" I said. "I shan't tell you what Nancy and the
others said about you."

Maude had the gift of silence.

"What a beautiful house!" she sighed presently. "I know you'll think me
silly, but so much luxury as that frightens me a little. In England, in
those places we saw, it seemed natural enough, but in America--! And they
all your friends--seem to take it as a matter of course."

"There's no reason why we shouldn't have beautiful things and well served
dinners, too, if we have the money to pay for them."

"I suppose not," she agreed, absently.

XV.

That winter many other entertainments were given in our honour. But the
conviction grew upon me that Maude had no real liking for the social side
of life, that she acquiesced in it only on my account. Thus, at the very
outset of our married career, an irritant developed: signs of it, indeed,
were apparent from the first, when we were preparing the house we had
rented for occupancy. Hurrying away from my office at odd times to
furniture and department stores to help decide such momentous questions
as curtains, carpets, chairs and tables I would often spy the tall,
uncompromising figure of Susan Peters standing beside Maude's, while an
obliging clerk spread out, anxiously, rugs or wall-papers for their
inspection.

"Why don't you get Nancy to help you, too!" I ventured to ask her once.

"Ours is such a little house--compared to Nancy's, Hugh."

My attitude towards Susan had hitherto remained undefined. She was Tom's
wife and Tom's affair. In spite of her marked disapproval of the modern
trend in business and social life,--a prejudice she had communicated to
Tom, as a bachelor I had not disliked her; and it was certain that these
views had not mitigated Tom's loyalty and affection for me. Susan had
been my friend, as had her brother Perry, and Lucia, Perry's wife: they
made no secret of the fa