lemen of Vandyke's if you'd wear a ruff and
leave off your eye-glasses."

I wonder if you know how it seemed to have a child like that saying such
things. For she was more than a child, she was a beautiful woman, and
everything surrounding her was beautiful. And there had been a great
many gray years before I met Perry and before the money came which made
pleasant living possible.

"I like you because you are strong," was another of her tributes.

"How do you know I am strong?"

"Well, you look it. And not many men could have carried me so easily
up-stairs."

She had sprained her ankle in getting out of my car on the night that we
had dined at the country club. She had worn high-heeled slippers and had
stepped on a pebble.

It was on that night that I first faced the fact that I cared for her.
In my arms she had clung to me like a child, her hair had swept my
cheek, there had been the fragrance of violets.

I did not want to care for her. I remembered Perry--the burned toast
which had seemed to mark the beginning of their tragedy--those last
dreadful days. I knew that Perry's fate would not be mine; there would
be no need to sell bread to buy hyacinths. There was money enough and to
spare, money to let her live in the enjoyment of the things she craved;
money enough to--travel.

The more I thought of it the more I was held by the thought of what such
a trip would mean to me. It would be like that pilgrimage with young
Perry. There would be the same impassioned interest--there would be more
than that--there would be youth and loveliness--all mine.

I felt that I was mad to think of it. Yet she made me think of it. It
was what she wanted. She was not in the least unwomanly, but she was
very modern in her frank expression of the pleasure she felt in my
companionship.

"Oh, what would I do without you, Jim Crow?" was the way she put it.

I grew young in my months of association with her. I had danced a little
in my college days, but I had given it up. She taught me the new
steps--and we would set the phonograph going and take up the rugs.

When I grew expert we danced together at the country club and at some of
the smart places down-town. It was all very delightful. I made up my
mind that I should marry her.

I planned to ask her on Christmas Eve. I had a present for her, an
emerald set in antique silver with seed pearls. It was hung on a black
ribbon, and I could fancy it shining against the background of h