e Eugene's
face between her hands and look into his eyes.

"Look at me," she said once when he had dolefully commented upon the
possibility of change. "Look straight into my eyes. What do you see?"

"Courage and determination," he said.

"What else?"

"Love."

"Do you think I will change?"

"No."

"Surely?"

"No."

"Well, look at me straight, Eugene. I won't. I won't, do you hear? I'm
yours until you don't want me anymore. Now will you be happy?"

"Yes," he said.

"And when we get our studio," she went on.

"When we get our studio," he said, "we'll furnish it perfectly, and
entertain a little after a while, maybe. You'll be my lovely Suzanne, my
Flower Face, my Myrtle Blossom. Helen, Circe, Dianeme."

"I'll be your week-end bride," she laughed, "your odd or even girl,
whichever way the days fall."

"If it only comes true," he exclaimed when they parted. "If it only
does."

"Wait and see," she said. "Now you wait and see."

The days passed and Suzanne began what she called her campaign. Her
first move was to begin to talk about the marriage question at the
dinner table, or whenever she and her mother were alone, and to sound
her on this important question, putting her pronouncements on record.
Mrs. Dale was one of those empirical thinkers who love to philosophize
generally, but who make no specific application of anything to their own
affairs. On this marriage question she held most liberal and philosophic
views for all outside her own immediate family. It was her idea, outside
her own family, of course, that if a girl having reached maturity, and
what she considered a sound intellectual majority, and who was not by
then satisfied with the condition which matrimony offered, if she loved
no man desperately enough to want to marry him and could arrange some
way whereby she could satisfy her craving for love without jeopardizing
her reputation, that was her lookout. So far as Mrs. Dale was concerned,
she had no particular objection. She knew women in society, who, having
made unfortunate marriages, or marriages of convenience, sustained some
such relationship to men whom they admired. There was a subtle, under
the surface understanding outside the society circles of the most rigid
morality in regard to this, and there was the fast set, of which she was
at times a welcome member, which laughed at the severe conventions of
the older school. One must be careful--very. One must not be caught.
But, otherwi