he years? Would he
always have his mind on the things of which she knew nothing? Would she
always try and never make a success of her efforts to enter into his
life?

She had tried to tell him about Justin--about their compact of
friendship--yet the words had died on her lips. Suppose he did not
understand? Suppose he did not approve? Suppose he should forbid her to
have a big brother--as he had forbidden her to fly in the "Gray Gull"
with Justin?

She dared not risk such a catastrophe. She clung desperately to the
thought of Justin's youth and gayety. No, Anthony might not understand,
so why should she discuss it with him?

At dinner Anthony roused himself and had played the gracious host. Yet
on the return trip he had relapsed into silence, and she had again felt
that sense of desperate failure. Oh, what kind of wife was she going to
make for this grave Anthony, this great Dr. Anthony, who loved her and
whom she loved?

It was on the return trip, too, that he had spoken of their coming
marriage. "Why can't it be soon, Bettina?" he had said. "Why should we
wait, you and I?"

She knew that there was no good reason. That a few weeks ago she would
have been radiant at the prospect.

Yet she told him, nervously, that if he didn't mind, it would be better
to wait--a little. There were things to do.

And he had acquiesced, because of his masculine ignorance of the things
which must really be done.

"The big house will be ready," he said, "when you are ready."

As she changed her gown on her return home, Bettina meditated soberly on
the situation. Diana, when they had talked together, had pointed out
that the women who married such men as Anthony must be content to make
sacrifices. "He belongs to the world, dear child," she had said; "you
must remember that, if you would be happy. It must be your joy to help
him in his great work."

Bettina was beginning to be a little afraid of the future. It was not
that she did not love Anthony--why, Anthony was the best man in the
whole wide world. But everybody expected so much of her, and she was not
quite sure that she should come up to the full measure of their
expectations.

As she came down the stairs, Justin was waiting for her.

"Oh, you little beauty," his heart whispered; "you little white and gold
beauty."

She had twisted her hair low on her neck, and her delicate lace mantle
fell about her like folded gossamer wings.

"We will sit in the library," she said