agination," rejoined Charlton. "I
have perfect health--which means that I have a perfect disposition, for
only people with deranged interiors are sour and snappy and moody. And
I am sympathetic and understanding. I appreciate that women are
rottenly brought up and have everything to learn--everything that's
worth while if one is to live comfortably and growingly. So, I
shouldn't expect much at the outset beyond a desire to improve and a
capacity to improve. Yes, I've about all the virtues for a model
husband--a companionable, helpful mate for a woman who wants to be more
of a person every day she lives."

"No, thanks," said Jane, mockingly. "The advertisement reads well, but
I don't care to invest."

"Oh, I looked you over long ago," said Charlton with a coolness that
both amused and exasperated her. "You wouldn't do at all. You are very
attractive to look at and to talk with. Your money would be useful to
some plans I've got for some big sanatoriums along the line of
Schulze's up at Saint Christopher. But---" He shook his head, smiling
at her through a cloud of cigarette smoke.

"Go on," urged Jane. "What's wrong with me?"

"You've been miseducated too far and too deeply. You KNOW too much
that isn't so. You've got the upper class American woman habit of
thinking about yourself all the time. You are an indifferent
housekeeper, and you think you are good at it. You don't know the
practical side of life--cooking, sewing, house furnishing, marketing.
You're ambitious for a show career--the sort Davy Hull--excuse me,
Governor David Hull--is making so noisily. There's just the man for
you. You ought to marry. Marry Hull."

Jane was furiously angry. She did not dare show it; Charlton would
merely laugh and walk away, and perhaps refuse to be friends with her.
It exasperated her to the core, the narrow limitations of the power of
money. She could, through the power of her money, do exactly as she
pleased to and with everybody except the only kind of people she cared
about dominating; these she was apparently the less potent with
because of her money. It seemed to put them on their mettle and on
their guard.

She swallowed her anger. "Yes, I've got to get married," said she.
"And I don't know what to do about it."

"Hull," said Charlton.

"Is that the best advice you can give?" said she disdainfully.

"He needs you, and you need him. You like him--don't you?"

"Very much."

"Then--the thing's