fantasy illustrative of proud self-adulation; another, "The Vestal," a
study from Roman choric worship. After spending considerable time at
Pocono evolving costumes, poses, and the like, Berenice finally hinted
at the plan to Mrs. Batjer, declaring that she would enjoy the artistic
outlet it would afford, and indicating at the same time that it might
provide the necessary solution of a problem of ways and means.

"Why, Bevy, how you talk!" commented Mrs. Batjer. "And with your
possibilities. Why don't you marry first, and do your dancing
afterward? You might compel a certain amount of attention that way."

"Because of hubby? How droll! Whom would you suggest that I marry at
once?"

"Oh, when it comes to that--" replied Mrs. Batjer, with a slight
reproachful lift in her voice, and thinking of Kilmer Duelma. "But
surely your need isn't so pressing. If you were to take up
professional dancing I might have to cut you afterward--particularly if
any one else did."

She smiled the sweetest, most sensible smile. Mrs. Batjer accompanied
her suggestions nearly always with a slight sniff and cough. Berenice
could see that the mere fact of this conversation made a slight
difference. In Mrs. Batjer's world poverty was a dangerous topic. The
mere odor of it suggested a kind of horror--perhaps the equivalent of
error or sin. Others, Berenice now suspected, would take affright even
more swiftly.

Subsequent to this, however, she made one slight investigation of those
realms that govern professional theatrical engagements. It was a most
disturbing experience. The mere color and odor of the stuffy offices,
the gauche, material attendants, the impossible aspirants and
participants in this make-believe world! The crudeness! The effrontery!
The materiality! The sensuality! It came to her as a sickening breath
and for the moment frightened her. What would become of refinement
there? What of delicacy? How could one rise and sustain an individual
dignity and control in such a world as this?

Cowperwood was now suggesting as a binding link that he should buy a
home for them in Park Avenue, where such social functions as would be
of advantage to Berenice and in some measure to himself as an
occasional guest might be indulged in. Mrs. Carter, a fool of comfort,
was pleased to welcome this idea. It promised to give her absolute
financial security for the future.

"I know how it is with you, Frank," she declared. "I know you n