buy. But even the harmony of material environment means a great deal to
Nan--the difference between a pert, indifferent maid and a civil and
experienced one; flowers in your rooms; a taxi instead of a scramble for
a motor-'bus. Just small things in such a big thing as life, but they
make an enormous difference."

"You of all men surely understand a temperamental woman!" exclaimed
Penelope, surprised at his keen perception of the details which can fret
a woman so sorely in proportion to their apparent unimportance.

St. John hardly seemed to hear her, for he continued:

"And I want to give her freedom--freedom from marriage if she wishes it.
That's why I stipulate that the income ceases If she marries. I'm trying
to weight the balance against her marrying."

Penelope looked at him questioningly.

"But why? Surely love is the best thing of all?"

"Love and marriage, my dear, are two very different things," commented
St. John, with an unwonted touch of cynicism. After a moment he went on:
"Annabel and I--we loved. But I couldn't make her happy. Our
temperaments were unsuited, we looked out on life from different windows.
I'm not at all sure"--reflectively--"that the union of sympathetic
temperaments, even where less love is, does not result in a much larger
degree of happiness than the union of opposites, where there is great
love. The jar and fret is there, despite the attraction, and love
starves in an atmosphere of discord. For the race, probably the
mysterious attraction of opposites will produce the best results. But