t
the explanation of the fact to a mere man, with his finical dependence
on logic and all manner of foolishness in the way of reasoning, offered
considerable difficulty. So, she rested silent, puzzling over a means
for making the truth lucid to a member of the non-intuitional sex.

"Well, because what?" Hamilton repeated, suggestively.

"Why, just because--" Unable to find adequate words for interpreting the
cause, Cicily attempted a diversion. "And, anyhow, I'm so glad! Now, you
do see that I can help you, that I can do something for you that
counts." For the life of her, the young wife could not resist a
temptation to boast a little over her accomplishment in the world of
business. She even ventured to hint as to the "because" which she had
left unexplained. "Surely, Charles, now you must see how it's possible
for us women to help our husbands outside the home--once in a while, at
least. Really, there is some room in business on occasion for intuition,
just as there is in other things. But the few men who possess the gift
don't call it by its right name--not they! I imagine they're too busy
and prosperous to call it anything."

"You mustn't think I'm not grateful, Cicily," Hamilton answered, with
surprising meekness. "I know how much I shall owe you, if this deal goes
through." He went to the chair where his wife was sitting, and kissed
her tenderly. "Yes, you'll find me grateful enough," he repeated
earnestly, as he straightened again, and stood regarding her with
lover-like intentness.

Cicily, however, was not wholly content with the expression of feeling
on her husband's part. Her ambition toward really sharing his whole life
was not to be thwarted by accepting a single success, and the resultant
gratitude on the part of the one served, as a sufficient achievement.

"It's not gratitude that I want, Charles," she declared, resolutely;
"that is, not gratitude alone. I want recognition."

"But I do recognize everything, Cicily," Hamilton urged, manifestly at a
loss to understand his wife's precise meaning. Then, of a sudden, his
vision cleared, and he spoke with a new gentleness, yet with something
of the old authority. "I recognize most clearly that here and now is the
real turning point of our lives. We have both made mistakes--"

"Oh, both?" Cicily questioned, rebelliously. Her serene confidence in
herself did not relish the open confession of error.

"Yes," Hamilton maintained, judicially; "we've both mad