The week after the Chatfields' party, the Abercrombie Brendons and their guests returned to New York and Jerry was promptly summoned by his erstwhile hostess.

"We've got to have those people down here to tea, Jane," he said, impatiently, looking up from the note, as they sat at breakfast.

"What people?"

"Mrs. Brendon, Miss Morton, and the Bryces."

"Oh."

"I must play up and get those portrait orders."

"Besides, they are your friends. When shall we have them?"

"I would better see Mrs. Brendon, break the news to her of our marriage."

"Jerry, you haven't told her?"

"No. Waited till she got back."

"She won't come to the tea."

"Why not?"

"She'll be so angry that her plans for your marriage have miscarried."

"What do you know about that?" he inquired.

"I know."

He laughed and the subject was dropped. That afternoon he went to pay his respects to the great lady.

"Jerry, you wicked boy, why did you run away?" she said to him.

"Wait. Hear the worst, then empty the vials all at once. I'm married."

"You've married somebody?"

"I have."

"Who is she?"

"The girl who played Salome in the pageant."

"You were in love with her at the time! Were you engaged to her then?"

"No, we had no engagement."

"I think you behaved very badly to Althea and to me."

"Dear lady, how?"

"You led her to believe that you cared for her."

"On my solemn honour, I never made love to Miss Morton."

"You acted it, then. She got the idea, and so did I."

"I acted with her as I do with any woman I like."

"You admit you liked her?"

"I like to look at her, she is beautiful."

"Has this girl you have gone and married any money or position?"

"No."

"You've made a great big fool of yourself, Jerry Paxton, if you want my frank opinion. The Morton millions would have been no drawback to an artist of your tastes."

"I haven't the faintest reason for believing that Miss Morton would have accepted me, even if I had proposed to her."

"Well, I have," snapped Mrs. Brendon.

"I'm very sorry you think so badly of me. Your friendship and kindness have meant a great deal to me, and I am deeply regretful if I have forfeited them."

"Who said you'd forfeited them? I say I arranged a splendid match for you, and you wouldn't do your part. You are a fool, that's all."

"Granted. Now, when will you and the rest of the cruising party come to tea and meet Mrs. Paxton?"

"I don't want to meet her. I'm furious at her."

"You won't be when you know her. Nobody would be furious, and stay furious at Jane."

"Althea won't come and see you making eyes at her."

"I shall ask her anyway. What day suits you, or don't you want to come?"

"Of course, I want to come. I'm curious about the woman. Say Wednesday at five. Now, when are you going to begin work on my portrait?"

"We'll make an appointment for next week, if you like."

"Jerry, we nearly died of laughter over your letters about the Bryce child. You sounded so noble and so furious. Has she gotten over her trouble?"

"She still writes to me. They ought to shut that child up, right now, for the rest of her life," he said.

Half an hour later he left the lady in a very good humour and he decided that he had handled a difficult situation with some finesse. He reported to Jane, who made no comment. She wrote the invitations to the others, at his suggestion. She included Christiansen and some of the artist set.

"I shall ask Miss Roberts to pour tea," she said.

"Good idea. Don't believe she'll do it, but you might try."

She went to Bobs's door, that very minute, and knocked.

"What is it?" ungraciously from within.

"It's Jane. May I come in?"

She opened the door and entered. Bobs sat at work. She just looked at Jane, the same look of intense feeling which she had turned on her since her marriage.

"I wish you would not hate me so," Jane said directly. "We missed you out at the Chatfields' party, and ever since."

"I've been ill."

"Will you come and help us entertain Jerry's uptown friends on Wednesday? We both want you so much."

"Oh, I can't."

"I'm sorry. Jerry wants you, and I need you," she said, turning to go.

"I'll come," said Bobs.

"May I look at your work?" shyly.

"You won't like it."

Jane came to stand beside her, looking at the small figures already modelled in plaster.

"What is it?" she asked.

"It is called 'Woman.' I am trying to express the progress of woman through the happy ages," laughed Bobs harshly.

In the little model the figures of the women leaned on each other, hand on shoulder, as they groped. Woman, the pack animal; woman, the slave; woman, the mother, dragged by many births; woman, old, bent, heavy with age.

"What do you think of it?" sneered Bobs.

"I think it is wonderfully done, and bitter, bitter, bitter."

"It's truth; of course it's bitter."

Jane turned and left her without another word. She felt that a terrible thing had happened to the girl's soul. She hated Jerry for his careless blundering.

"Will she come?" he asked, on her entrance.

"Yes."

"Good for you, Jane."

That evening a veritable trunk of flowers, with a note, came to Jane from Mrs. Brendon.

"Very pretty of her. Don't you think so?" Jerry said.

"Yes."

"She's quite important, you know."

"You mean she is distinguished?"

"Distinguished? No. I mean she is Mrs. Abercrombie Brendon."

"She is rich?"

"Also powerful, which you may not despise. She can be very useful to us."

He was irritated at Jane's lack of social consciousness. She had no idea of any desirability in Mrs. Brendon's patronage. She was as unmoved by this important occasion as if the Chatfields were coming to tea. She made every preparation for the comfort of their guests. The studio was delightfully immaculate, with Jerry's flowers everywhere. She made the sandwiches herself, chose the French pastry with care.

"Wear the gray and flame gown, will you, Jane?" Jerry said to her, when she went to dress.

"Certainly."

He fussed about nervously, until she reappeared. She looked her best. This gown of flame-coloured chiffon, veiled with chiffon of deep gray, was one of Jerry's masterpieces.

"You look like the leading lady, Jane," he said approvingly.

"Thank you. I hope I can play it."

Her calm was not entirely genuine. She did not in the least care, for herself, what impression she made upon these people, but she realized how much it meant to Jerry. He had been in a nervous stew all day.

Bobs came in at five, very set of face, and ill at ease. Jerry greeted her over-enthusiastically. Jane saved the situation.

"Jerry, you know how to dress her," Bobs remarked.

"Funny we never noticed her points."

"I did."

Christiansen and Mrs. Brendon arrived together. Jerry met them at the door and led them to Jane.

"We have met before, Mrs. Paxton," said the great lady amiably.

"I remember," Jane replied.

Christiansen smiled into her eyes, as he took her hand.

"How do you get Mr. Christiansen here, Jerry? He shuns my parties," Mrs. Brendon complained.

"It is Jane's charms, not mine," laughed her host.

"Ah," said Mrs. Brendon, inspecting Jane again.

The Bryces and Althea came along shortly. Mrs. Bryce was very cordial to Jane, Althea very patronizing. Wally, after one look at his hostess, lost his head at once.

"You're a dear to ask us to your party, after the trouble that awful child of ours gave you," said Mrs. Bryce to Jerry.

"She is a handful. Jane had her overnight."

"You poor soul!" exclaimed Wally.

"I liked her. She was so absurd, and so pathetic. Her positiveness is a real talent," said Jane.

They all laughed at this, except Althea, who faintly smiled. Bobs was ensconced at the tea table and the party broke up into smaller units.

"The last party Paxton gave was pleasanter than this," Christiansen whispered to Jane. "Are things going well with you?"

"If I get through this dÉbut without mischance, I'm safe," she answered gaily.

"Mrs. Brendon is on Jerry's side, but the Morton is aggrieved. Don't be too tender with her."

"These are charming quarters, Mrs. Paxton, perfectly charming," said Mrs. Brendon effusively.

"Don't you find it a trifle crowded?" asked Althea sweetly.

"No. I had only one room before I married," replied Jane.

"Oh, did you? How could you manage?" said Miss Morton, conveying pity for the poor in both tone and glance.

"Some of us need a dozen costly rooms for our background; some of us bloom radiantly in one tiny chamber," said Christiansen.

"Are you a poet as well as a critic, Mr. Christiansen?" she asked tartly.

"Mrs. Paxton inspires unsuspected gifts," he retorted.

Althea managed to get Jerry into a corner, where she gave him a bad half hour. Jane was glad to be rid of her. She quite enjoyed the others. She almost disgraced herself, when she heard Bobs giving Mrs. Brendon an elaborate and fictitious biography of their hostess. On the whole, the party went off very well.

"Mrs. Paxton, your husband is to begin my portrait next week, so we shall see something of each other at my sittings," said Mrs. Brendon, at parting.

"Do you paint here?" asked Althea.

"Yes," said Jerry.

"Can't you begin on mine next week, too? I could come the days Mrs. Brendon does not come."

"Better wait until we are through with hers."

"No. I want to begin at once."

"Besieged! What a life these portrait painters lead," cried Christiansen.

"Mrs. Brendon comes Monday at ten. Will you come at the same hour on Tuesday?"

"Yes," she said, and laughed. "Good-bye, Mrs. Paxton. So nice to meet you."

Jane bowed silently. Adieux followed and their voices trailed off down the hall.

"Damned snobs!" remarked Bobs.

"I thought they behaved very well," said Jerry haughtily.

"Thank God I don't have to cater to them. You were just right, Jane. Kept them where they belonged."

"I'm afraid I was a failure. They didn't seem real to me. They were like people on the stage. I couldn't talk to them."

"You were all right. They were crazy about you," said Jerry.

Jane laughed at that and startled them both. She laughed so rarely.

"If I were Mrs. Jerry Paxton, I'd tell 'em to go plumb to ——. He could just manage them himself."

"Free woman!" taunted Jerry.

"You were a dear to come. I know it bored you," Jane interrupted.

"You didn't need me," said Bobs, as she left.

Jane sighed, and went to the dismantled table. Jerry, idly smoking, watched her.

"Where did you get the grand air, Jane?"

"Have I it?"

"You certainly have. It's a great thing for a beginner.... Two portraits, and of those two women. It is a very good start indeed, Mrs. Jerome Paxton."

"I'm glad."

"Do you want to be rich, Jane?"

"No. I think it hampers people."

"How?"

"Things collect and get to be important. Possessions smother you. Oh! no, I should hate to be rich."

"Jane, I sometimes feel as if I had married a female Bernard Shaw!"

Again she laughed, and he noticed it was a pleasant sound.