st.

His even-tempered indifference to others--an indifference which had
always characterised him--had left only a wider and deeper void now
filling with his passion for her.

They were passing through a maze of cross-purposes; his ardent and
exacting intolerance of any creed and opinion save his own was ever
forcing her toward a more formal and literal appreciation of what he
was determined must become a genuine and formal engagement--which
attitude on his part naturally produced clash after clash between them.

That he entertained so confidently the conviction of her ultimate
surrender to convention, at moments vexed her to the verge of anger. At
times, too, his disposition to interfere with her liberty tried her
patience. Again and again she explained to him the unalterable
fundamentals of their pact. These were, first of all, her refusal to
alienate him from his family and his own world; second, her right to her
own individuality and freedom to support herself without interference or
unrequested assistance from him; third, absolute independence of him in
material matters and the perfect liberty of managing her own little
financial affairs without a hint of dependence on him either before or
after the great change.

That she posed only in costume now did not satisfy him. He did not wish
her to pose at all; and they discussed various other theatres for her
business activity. But she very patiently explained to him that she
found, in posing for interesting people, much of the intellectual
pleasure that he and other men found in painting; that the life and the
environment, and the people she met, made her happy; and that she could
not expect to meet cultivated people in any other way.

"I _don't_ want to learn stenography and take dictation in a stuffy
office, dear," she pleaded. "I _don't_ want to sit all day in a library
where people whisper about books. I don't want to teach in a public
school or read novels to invalids, or learn how to be a trained nurse
and place thermometers in people's mouths. I like children pretty well
but I don't want to be a governess and teach other people's children; I
want to be taught myself; I want to learn--I'm a sort of a child, too,
dear; and it's the familiarity with wiser people and brighter people and
pleasant surroundings that has made me as happy as I am--given me what I
never had as a child. You don't understand, but I'm having my childhood
now--nursery, kindergarten, parti