morning, and the sight of his home suggested to him only that he
ought to be in bed and asleep.

Then he recognized that he never would sleep again. He went over it from
the beginning, putting the pieces together. He never had liked Maddox,
but he had explained that by the fact that, as Maddox was so much more
intelligent than he, there could be little between them. And it was
because every one said he was so intelligent that he had looked upon his
devotion to Jeanne rather as a compliment. He wondered why already it
had not been plain to him. When Jeanne, who mocked at golf as a refuge
for old age, spent hours with Maddox on the links; when, after she had
declined to ride with her husband, on his return he would find her at
tea with Maddox in front of the wood fire.

That night, when he drove Jeanne home, she still was joyous, radiant; it
was now she who chided him upon being silent.

He waited until noon the next morning and then asked her if it were
true. It was true. Jeanne thanked him for coming to her so honestly and
straightforwardly. She also had been straightforward and honest. They
had waited, she said, not through deceit but only out of consideration
for him.

"Before we told you," Jeanne explained, "we wanted to be quite sure that
_I_ was sure."

The "we" hurt Jimmie like the stab of a rusty knife.

But he said only: "And you _are_ sure? Three years ago you were sure you
loved _me_."

Jeanne's eyes were filled with pity, but she said: "That was three years
ago. I was a child, and now I am a woman. In many ways you have stood
still and I have gone on."

"That's true," said Jimmie; "you always were too good for me."

"_No_ woman is good enough for you," returned Jeanne loyally. "And your
brains are just as good as mine, only you haven't used them. I have
questioned and reached out and gained knowledge of all kinds. I am a
Feminist and you are not. If you were you would understand."

"I don't know even what a Feminist is," said Jimmie, "but I'm glad I'm
not one."

"A Feminist is one," explained Jeanne, "who does not think her life
should be devoted to one person, but to the world."

Jimmie shook his head and smiled miserably.

"_You_ are _my_ world," he said. "The only world I know. The only world
I want to know."

He walked to the fireplace and leaned his elbows on the mantel, and
buried his head in his hands. But that his distress might not hurt
Jeanne, he turned and, to give her courage, sm