. Haven't I done it? You know what his work was like before he
loved me. Can you say that he ever painted better than he does now, or
even one-half as well?"

Katherine could not honestly say that he had; but she smiled as she
answered, "No; but for the last six months he has done nothing from
anybody but yourself. You make a very charming picture, Audrey, but you
can hardly want people to say that your husband can only paint one
type."

"My husband can paint as many types as he pleases." Katherine still
looked dubious. "Anything more?"

"Yes, one thing. You say you want to keep Ted true to himself, as you
put it. He made up his mind this morning to go to Paris to study hard
for six months. It means a lot of self-sacrifice for you both, to be
separated so soon; but it will be the making of him. You won't let him
change his mind? You won't say anything to keep him back, will you?"

Audrey's face had suddenly grown hard, and she looked away from
Katherine as she answered, "You're not very consistent, I must say. You
can't think Ted such an utter baby if you trust him to go off to Paris
all by himself. As to his making up his mind this morning, our
engagement alters all that. After all, how can it affect Ted's career if
he goes now or three years hence?"

"It makes all the difference."

"I can't see it. And yet--and yet--I wouldn't spoil Ted's chances for
worlds." She rose and walked a few paces to and fro. "Let me think, let
me think!" She stood still, an image of abstract Justice, with one hand
folded over her eyes, and the other clenched as if it held the invisible
scales of destiny, weighing her present, overcharged with agreeable
sensations, against her lover's future. Apparently, after some shifting
of the weights, she had made the two balance, for she clapped her hands
suddenly, and exclaimed, with an emphasis on every other word--

"Katherine! An inspiration! We'll go to Paris for our honeymoon, and Ted
shall stay there six months--a year--for ever, if he likes. Paris is the
place I adore above all others. I shall simply live in that dear
Louvre!" She added in more matter-of-fact tones, "And I needn't order my
trousseau till I get there. That'll save no end of bother on this side.
I hate the way we do things here. For weeks before your wedding-day to
have to think of nothing but clothes, clothes, clothes--could anything
be more revolting?"

"Yes," said Katherine, "to think of them before a funeral."

Aud