ER IX

BLUE AND GOLD

Marjory was to be married on June eighteenth, at eleven o'clock, in the
chapel of the English Congregational Church. At ten o'clock of that
day she was in her room before the mirror, trying to account for her
heightened color. Marie had just left her in despair and bewilderment,
after trying to make her look as bridelike as possible when she did not
wish to look bridelike. Marie had wished to do her hair in some absurd
new fashion for the occasion.

"But, Marie," she had explained, "nothing is to be changed. Therefore
why should I change my appearance?"

"Mademoiselle to be a bride--and nothing changed?" Marie had cried.

"Nothing about me; nothing about Mr. Covington. We are merely to be
married, that is all--as a matter of convenience."

"Mademoiselle will see," Marie had answered cryptically.

"You will see yourself," Marjory had laughed.

Eh bien! something was changed already, as she had only to look in the
mirror to observe. There was a deep flush upon her cheeks and her eyes
did not look quite natural. She saw, and seeing only made it worse.
Manifestly it was absurd of her to become excited now over a matter
that up to this point she had been able to handle so reasonably. It
was scarcely loyal to Monte. He had a right to expect her to be more
sensible.

He had put it well last night when he had remarked that for her to go
to a chapel to be married was no more serious than to go to an embassy
for a passport. She was merely to share with him the freedom that was
his as a birthright of his sex. In no other respect whatever was she
to be under any obligations to him. With ample means of her own, he
was simply giving her an opportunity to enjoy them unmolested--a
privilege which the world denied her as long as she remained unmarried.
In no way was he to be responsible for her or to her. He understood
this fully, and it was exactly what he himself desired.

She, in return for this privilege, was to make herself as entertaining
a traveling companion as possible. She was to be what she had been
these last few weeks.

Neither was making any sacrifice. That was precisely what they were
avoiding. That was the beauty of the arrangement. Instead of
multiplying cares and responsibilities, as ordinary folk did,--thereby
defeating the very object for which they married, a fuller and wider
freedom,--each was to do away with the few they already had as
individuals.

Therefore