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.