f natural history, and not I, that deceived
you," she retorted gayly, "because I didn't spread my wings for you, did
you imagine that they were not brilliant?"

There was a note almost of relief in her voice as she spoke--for she
knew now that, so long as he refused to be serious, she could not tell
him until to-morrow.

CHAPTER II

IN WHICH LAURA ENTERS THE VALLEY OF HUMILIATION

Two weeks later Laura was still able to assure herself that it was this
lack of "seriousness" in Kemper's manner which had kept her from
alluding to the burned letter. Since the morning on which she had seen
Adams, she felt that she had merely skimmed experience without actually
touching it; and three days from the date of her marriage she was as far
from any deeper understanding of the situation as she had been in the
beginning of her love. In the end it was so much easier to ignore her
difficulties than to face them; and it seemed to her now that she was
forced almost in spite of herself into Gerty's frivolous attitude toward
life. To evade the real--to crowd one's existence with little lies until
there was no space left through which the larger truth might enter--this
was the only solution which she had found ready for her immediate need.

Adams she had not met again; once he had called, but impelled by a
shrinking which was almost one of fear, she had turned back on the
threshold and refused to see him. Even Gerty she had tried to avoid
since the afternoon in Kemper's rooms, but Gerty, who was in her gayest
mood, drove down every day "to overturn," as she carelessly remarked,
"the newest presents."

"I'm heartily glad you're going to Europe," she said, "and I hope by the
time you come back you'll have lost that nervous look in your face. It
never used to be there and I don't like it."

At her words Laura threw an alarmed glance at the mirror; then she
turned her head with a laugh in which there was a note of bitterness.

"It came there in my effort to make conversation," she answered. "I've
been engaged to Arnold eight months and we've talked out every subject
that we have in common. Do you know what it is to be in love with a man
and yet to rack your brain for something to say to him?" she finished
merrily.

"That's because you ought to have married Roger Adams, as I was the only
one to suggest," retorted Gerty, "then you'd have had conversation
enough to flow on, without a pause, till Judgment Day. It's a very good
thi