more　or　less　well　nowadays。　　In　fact；　all　the　women；　of　all　classes　and　conditions；　were　engaged　in　the　same　mad　struggle　to　get　hold　of　money　to　spend　upon　fun　and　finerya　struggle　matching　in　recklessness　and　resoluteness　the　struggle　of　the　men　down…town　for　money　for　the　same　purposes。　　It　was　curious；　this　double　mania　of　the　men　and　the　womenthe　mania　to　get　money；　no　matter　how；　the　instantly　succeeding　mania　to　get　rid　of　it；　no　matter　how。　　Looking　about　her；　Mildred　felt　that　she　was　peculiar　and　apart　from　nearly　all　the　women　she　knew。　　SHE　got　her　money　honorably。　SHE　did　not　degrade　herself；　did　not　sell　herself；　did　not　wheedle　or　cajole　or　pretend　in　the　least　degree。　　She　had　grown　more　liberal　as　her　outlook　on　life　had　widened　with　contact　with　the　New　York　mindno；　with　the　mind　of　the　whole　easy…going；　luxury…mad；　morality…scorning　modern　world。　　She　still　kept　her　standard　for　herself　high；　and　believed　in　a　purity　for　herself　which　she　did　not　exact　or　expect　in　her　friends。　In　this　respect　she　and　Cyrilla　Brindley　were　sympathetically　alike。　　No；　Mildred　was　confident　that　in　no　circumstances；　in　NO　circumstances；　would　she　relax　her　ideas　of　what　she　personally　could　do　and　could　not　do。　Not　that　she　blamed；　or　judged　at　all；　women　who　did　as　she　would　not；　but　she　could　not；　simply　could　not；　however　hard　she　might　be　driven；　do　those　things　though　she　could　easily　understand　how　other　women　did　them　in　preference　to　sinking　down　into　the　working　class　or　eking　out　a　frowsy　existence　in　some　poor　boarding…house。　　The　temptation　would　be　great。　Thank　Heaven；　it　was　not　teasing　her。　　She　would　resist　it；　of　course。　　But
  What　if　Stanley　Baird　should　lose　interest？　　What　if；　after　he　lost　interest；　she　should　find　herself　without　money；　worse　of　than　she　had　been　when　she　sold　herself　into　slaveryhighly　moral　and　conventionally　correct　slavery；　but　still　slaveryto　the　little　general　with　the　peaked　pink…silk　nightcap　hiding　the　absence　of　the　removed　toupeeand　with　the　wonderful　pink…silk　pajamas；　gorgeously　monogramed　in　violet　and　the　tiny　feet　and　ugly　handsand　those　loathsome　needle…pointed　mustaches　and　the　hideous　habit　of　mumbling　his　tongue　and　smacking　his　lips？　　What　if；　moneyless；　she　should　not　be　able　to　find　another　Stanley　or　a　man　of　the　class　gentleman　willing　to　help　her　generously　even　on　ANY　terms？　　What　then？
  She　was　looking　out　over　the　sea；　her　bank…book　and　statements　and　canceled　checks　in　her　lap。　　Their　cottage　was　at　the　very　edge　of　the　strand；　its　veranda　was　often　damp　from　spray　after　a　storm。　　It　was　not　storming　as　she　sat　there；　‘‘taking　stock''；　under　a　blue　sky　an　almost　tranquil　sea　was　crooning　softly　in　the　sunlight；　innocent　and　happy　and　playful　as　a　child。　She；　dressed　in　a　charming　negligee　and　looking　forward　to　a　merry　day　in　the　auto；　with　lunch　and　dinner　at　attractive；　luxurious　places　farther　down　the　coast　she　was　stricken　with　a　horrible　sadness；　with　a　terror　that　made　her　heart　beat　wildly。
  ‘‘I　must　be　crazy！''　she　said；　half　aloud。　　‘‘I've　never　earned　a　dollar　with　my　voice。　　And　for　two　months　it　has　been　unreliable。　　I'm　acting　like　a　crazy　person。　　What　WILL　become　of　me？''
  Just　then　Stanley　Baird　came　through　the　pretty　little　house；　seeking　her。　　‘‘There　you　are！''　he　cried。　　‘‘Do　go　get　dressed。''
  Hastily　she　flung　a　scarf　over　the　book　and　papers　in　her　lap。　　She　had　intended　to　speak　to　him　about　that　fresh　deposit　of　five　thousand　dollarsto　refuse　it；　to　rebuke　him。　　Now　she　did　not　dare。
  ‘‘What's　the　matter？''　he　went　on。　　‘‘Headache？''
  ‘‘It　was　the　wine　at　dinner　last　night；''　explained　she。　‘‘I　ought　never　to　touch　red　wine。　　It　disagrees　with　me　horribly。''
  ‘‘That　was　filthy　stuff；''　said　he。　　‘‘You　must　take　some　champagne　at　lunch。　　That'll　set　you　right。''
  She　stealthily　wound　the　scarf　about　the　papers。　When　she　felt　that　all　were　secure　she　rose。　　She　was　looking　sweet　and　sad　and　peculiarly　beautiful。　　There　was　an　exquisite　sheen　on　her　skin。　　She　had　washed　her　hair　that　morning；　and　it　was　straying　fascinatingly　about　her　brow　and　ears　and　neck。　　Baird　looked　at　her；　lowered　his　eyes　and　colored。
  ‘‘I'll　not　be　long；''　she　said　hurriedly。
  She　had　to　pass　him　in　the　rather　narrow　doorway。　From　her　garments　shook　a　delicious　perfume。　　He　caught　her　in　his　arms。　　The　blood　had　flushed　into　his　face　in　a　torrent；　swelling　out　the　veins；　giving　him　a　distorted　and　wild　expression。
  ‘‘Mildred！''　he　cried。　　‘‘Say　that　you　love　me　a　little！　　I'm　so　lonely　for　youso　hungry　for　you！''
  She　grew　cold　with　fear　and　with　repulsion。　　She　neither　yielded　to　his　embrace　nor　shook　it　off。　　She　simply　stood；　her　round　smooth　body　hard　though　corsetless。　He　kissed　her　on　the　throat；　kissed　the　lace　over　her　bosom；　crying　out　inarticulately。　　In　the　frenzy　of　his　passion　he　did　not　for　a　while　realize　her　lack　of　response。　　As　he　felt　it；　his　arms　relaxed；　dropped　away　from　her；　fell　at　his　side。　　He　hung　his　head。　　He　was　breathing　so　heavily　that　she　glanced　into　the　house　apprehensively；　fearing　someone　else　might　hear。
  ‘‘I　beg　pardon；''　he　muttered。　　‘‘You　were　too　much　for　me　this　morning。　　It　was　your　fault。　　You　are　maddening！''
  She　moved　on　into　the　house。
  ‘‘Wait　a　minute！''　he　called　after　her。
  She　halted；　hesitating。
  ‘‘Come　back；''　he　said。　　‘‘I've　got　something　to　say　to　you。''
  She　turned　and　went　back　to　the　veranda；　he　retreating　before　her　and　his　eyes　sinking　before　the　cold；　clear　blue　of　hers。
  ‘‘You're　going　up；　not　to　come　down　again；''　he　said。　‘‘You　think　I've　insulted　youthink　I've　acted　outrageously。''
  How　glad　she　was　that　he　had　so　misread　her　thoughts　had　not　discovered　the　fear；　the　weakness；　the　sudden　collapse　of　all　her　boasted　confidence　in　her　strength　of　character。
  ‘‘You'll　never　feel　the　same　toward　me　again；''　he　went　fatuously　on。　　‘‘You　think　I'm　a　fraud。　　Well；　I'll　admit　that　I　am　in　love　with　youhave　been　ever　since　the　steameralways　was　crazy　about　that　mouth　of　yoursand　your　figure；　and　the　sound　of　your　voice。　　I'll　admit　I'm　an　utter　fool　about　yourespect　you　and　trust　you　as　I　never　used　to　think　any　woman　deserved　to　be　respected　and　trusted。　　I'll　even　admit　that　I've　been　hopingall　sorts　of　things。　　I　knew　a　woman　like　you　wouldn't　let　a　man　help　her　unless　she　loved　him。''
  At　this　her　heart　beat　wildly　and　a　blush　of　shame　poured　over　her　face　and　neck。　　He　did　not　see。　　He　had　not　the　courage　to　look　at　herto　face　that　expression　of　the　violated　goddess　he　felt　confident　her　face　was　wearing。　　In　love；　he　reasoned　and　felt　about　her　like　an　inexperienced　boy；　all　his　experience　going　for　nothing。　　He　went　on：
  ‘‘I　understand　we　can　never　be　anything　to　each　other　until　you're　on　the　stage　and　arrived。　　I'd　not　have　it　otherwise；　if　I　could。　　For　I　want　YOU；　and　I'd　never　believe　I　had　you　unless　you　were　free。''
  The　color　was　fading　from　her　cheeks。　　At　this　it　flushed　deeper　than　before。　　She　must　speak。　　Not　to　speak　was　to　lie；　was　to　play　the　hypocrite。　　Yet　speak　she　dared　not。　　At　least　Stanley　Baird　was　better　than　Siddall。　　Anyhow；　who　was　she；　that　had　been　the　wife　of　Siddall；　to　be　so　finicky？
  ‘‘You　don't　believe　me？''　he　said　miserably。　　‘‘You　think　I'll　forget　myself　sometime　again？''
  ‘‘I　hope　not；''　she　said　gently。　　‘‘I　believe　not。　　I　trust　you；　Stanley。''
  And　she　went　into　the　house。　　He　looked　after　her；　in　admiration　of　the　sweet　and　pure　calm　of　this　quiet　rebuke。　　She　tried　to　take　the　same　exalted　view　of　it　herself；　but　she　could　not　fool　herself　just　then　with　the　familiar　‘‘good　woman''　fake。　　She　knew　that　she　had　struck　the　flag　of　self…respect。　　She　knew　what　she　would　really　have　done　had　he　been　less　delicate；　less　in　love；　and　more　‘‘practical。''　　And　she　found　a　small　and　poor　consolation　in　reflecting；　‘‘I　wonder　how　many　women　there　are　who　take　high　ground　because　it　costs　nothing。''　　We　are　prone　to　suspect　everybody　of　any　weakness　we　find　in　ourselvesand　perhaps　we　are　not　so　far　wrong　as　are　those　who　accept　without　question　the　noisy　protestations　of　a　world　of　self…deceivers。
  Thenceforth　she　and　Stanley　got　on　better　than　ever　apparently。　　But　though　she　ignored　it；　she　knew　the　truthknew　her　new　and　deep　content　was　due　to　her　not　having　challenged　his　assertion　that　she　loved　him。　　He；　believing　her　honest　and　high　minded；　assumed　that　the　failure　to　challenge　was　a　good　woman's　way　of　admitting。　　But　with　the　day　of　reckoning　not　only　with　him　but　also　with　her　own　self…　respectput　off　until　that　vague　and　remote　time　when　she　should　be　a　successful　prima　donna；　she　gave　herself　up　to　enjoyment。　　That　was　a　summer　of　rarely　fine　weather；　particularly　fine　along　the　Jersey　coast。　　They　always　in　gay　partiesmotored　up　and　down　the　coast　and　inland。　　Several　of　the　‘‘musical''　men　notably　Richardson　of　Elberonhad　plenty　of　money；　Stanley；　stopping　with　his　cousins；　the　Frasers；　on　the　Rumson　Road；　brought　several　of　his　friends；　all　rich　and　more　or　less　free。　　As　every　moment　of　Mildred's　day　was　full　and　as　it　was　impossible　not　to　sleep　and　sleep　well　in　that　ocean　air；　with　the　surf　soothing　the　nerves　as　the　lullaby　of　a　nurse　soothes　a　baby；　she　was　able　to　put　everything　unpleasant　o