I 
 
 8KS5 
 
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The 
 Husband Test 
 
 By 
 
 MARY CAROLYN DAVIES 
 
 Frontispiece by 
 ELIZABETH PILSBRY 
 
 THE PENN PUBLISHING 
 COMPANY PHILADELPHIA 
 
 1921 
 
COPYRIGHT 
 1921 BY 
 THE PENN 
 PUBLISHING 
 COMPANY 
 
 The Husband Test 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 I. Bettina of the Bourgeoisie . 
 II. Goes to a Greenwich Village Ball 
 
 III. Bettina Pays for the Taxi . 
 
 IV. " It Will Be so Exciting to Marry 
 
 a Eadical ! " . 
 
 V. Bettina and the Acid Test . 
 
 VI. "Well," Said Bettina, "I Was 
 Thinking of a Month " 
 
 VII. For the Good of the Eace 
 
 VIII. Bettina Takes Her Hat and Goes 
 
 IX. Bettina Lunches on Lotus 
 
 X. For a Time ..... 
 
 XL And Finds It Not so Filling as It 
 
 Might Be 
 
 XII. Bettina Discovers the Bevolution 113 
 
 XIII. Bettina Pays the Bills . 
 
 XIV. The Overhead on Parnassus . 
 XV. Temp Buys a Ton of Coal 
 
 XVI. Must There Always Be Causes ! 
 
 XVIT. Bettina and the Bus Conductor 
 
 XVIII. The White and Gold Chair . 
 
 3 
 
 3 & 9 r t 3 o 
 
 5 
 
 17 
 29 
 
 36 
 45 
 
 58 
 
 79 
 87 
 98 
 
 105 
 
 118 
 129 
 134 
 139 
 145 
 150 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 XIX. 
 
 The Strap- Hanger to the Sar- 
 
 158 
 
 XX. 
 
 Picnicking on Parnassus 
 
 169 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Enter the Laundryman 
 
 176 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Parnassus Besieged 
 
 180 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Clarice the Cleaning Lady 
 
 185 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 The Landlord and the Citadel 
 
 OF JxRT ...... 
 
 189 
 
 XXV. 
 
 War to the Knife 
 
 194 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 The Landlord Discovers the 
 
 199 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Bettina Beverts to Type 
 
 206 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Bettina Eeturns to the Fold 
 
 213 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Bettina and the Balcony Scene . 
 
 220 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Temp as a Good Provider 
 
 235 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 "So This Is Love!' ' 
 
 243 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 For You a Violet .... 
 
 249 
 

 ' ' ■ . I -> -> 
 
 , I . ■ •,,,'■■' 
 
 The Husband Test 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 BETTINA OF THE BOURGEOISIE 
 
 Anarchism and baths would be a political 
 combination hard to conquer. 
 
 But that they will ever be combined is doubt- 
 ful. The leaders who insist on baths alone, 
 overlook the adventurous part of one's nature 
 to which anarchism makes its eternal appeal; 
 and those who insist on anarchism alone, forget 
 that, if stifled too long, the part of one's na- 
 ture which craves baths, will arise and assert 
 itself. 
 
 As society is constituted now, we must each 
 
 make our fateful choice. The world is lined 
 
 up into two " sides," like a spelling match, each 
 
 side glaring at the other and resolved to spell 
 
 it down. This is what divided New York into 
 
 " Uptown " and " The Village." 
 
 6 
 
 

 ( . * 
 
 ( r 
 
 THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 Uptown is a place where people have clean 
 table napkins and no ideas; and Greenwich 
 Village, where they have any number of ideas, 
 but no clean table napkins. The denizens of 
 these two different countries never mingle; of 
 course, natives of each go slumming into the 
 hostile territory, but slumming can on no ac- 
 count be said to be mingling. A slumming 
 expedition is undertaken for the purpose of 
 criticizing while it is going on, and of boasting 
 afterward. One goes for the reason one climbs 
 mountains, not for the sake of any inherent 
 pleasure, but only to say one has done it. 
 
 Parties of women who live at the Astor come 
 with their escorts to Polly's, and the cellar of 
 the Brevoort, and to the Pow-wow, and 
 Marie's, level spiritual lorgnettes at anyone 
 who happens to be sitting at the candle-clad 
 tables, speculate in whispers about their prob- 
 able morals, and then go home and describe it 
 all at each other's teas. 
 
 " Weird, simply weird, my dear." And, 
 seeing smocks which cost their owners seventy- 
 six cents, they copy them accurately at an ex- 
 pense of twenty-seven dollars, and wear them 
 
 6 
 
BETTINA 
 
 holily and blandly in their boudoirs, to their 
 husband's great disgust and their maid's 
 amusement. 
 
 But it is not Upper Fifth Avenue and Riv- 
 erside Drive alone that goes slumming. No 
 Villager really is above it. They of Sheridan 
 Square go just as eagerly on occasion to tea 
 with a great lady, and criticize the butler in 
 their hearts, and come home, and with two mat- 
 tresses from Macy's and several yards of cre- 
 tonne, copy an achievement of madame's inte- 
 rior decorator, for the floor of the studio. 
 
 And just as surely as madame boasts to her 
 friends from Greenwich, Conn., about Green- 
 wich Village, N. Y., and casually mentions 
 dropping in at Polly's last Saturday night and 
 going around afterward to see the studio of 
 Pierre Peters, the artist, — " Such a clever 
 young man," — just so surely does Betty 
 Barnes, one hundred and thirty something 
 MacDougal Street, boast of her friend Nadine 
 Yorowits, over their cigarettes, that she had 
 
 tea yesterday at Mrs. 's on Riverside 
 
 Drive. 
 
 Of course in the Village they hide the boast- 
 
 7 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 ing motif better. They do everything better 
 in the Village. The subtle, complex, highest 
 achievement of civilization finds its expression 
 there, more than anywhere else in the world. 
 The Villagers do not tell you this, they are too 
 modest. They only let you see it yourself from 
 their conversation. 
 
 But the veneer of friendly intercourse which 
 necessarily coats slumming, is cast aside by 
 these two parts of New York when their polit- 
 ical division is concerned. Here they are 
 frankly foes, and there can be no trafficking 
 with the enemy. 
 
 Someone down the march of ages once con- 
 ceived the idea of mixing politics with ideals, 
 and since then there has been, as less scrupu- 
 lous persons might phrase it, the devil to pay. 
 When people begin having ideals, something 
 uncomfortable usually happens. While poli- 
 tics were politics, all was well, but now that 
 politics are ideals, families split and hate each 
 other, parents quarrel and children fight, 
 brother is set against brother, and the uptown 
 slummer and the merry Villager think of one 
 another with contempt and scorn. 
 
 8 
 
BETTINA 
 
 There is no hatred like the hatred between 
 radical and conservative — unless it be the 
 hatred between radical and radical — but that 
 has nothing to do with Bettina. 
 
 Bettina Howard was a girl who had gone to 
 boarding-school, at the correct distance up the 
 Hudson, and had lived up to the ideals of her 
 English teacher ever since. Bettina was of 
 the height that finds dances in the West more 
 enjoyable than in New York, for in New York 
 there are always a certain proportion of short 
 men. She was slender, with bones in her neck, 
 and knobby elbows, but there was something 
 about her — it was a vestige of charm like a 
 smudge on her face. Everyone but she knew 
 about it, and if she had guessed at its presence 
 now, she would have wiped it off, stern and 
 ashamed. For already she was on the verge of 
 becoming emancipated. She was of that in- 
 determinate race that is neither blonde nor 
 brunette, and so, according to all the tables, 
 may marry either. Her hair was only hair- 
 color. It was a grief to her, for, like all girls 
 except red-headed ones, she would have liked 
 
 it to be red. She was a kindly girl, who sought 
 
 9 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 to give joy to all, but she had a way of finding 
 the most devious methods of doing it. 
 
 She was engaged to a proper person. Noth- 
 ing is more tantalizing and elusive than being 
 engaged to a proper person. It only serves to 
 give one hints of how delicious the same sort of 
 relationship would be with someone more ex- 
 citing. 
 
 " Exciting " was Bettina's favorite word, 
 and, poor girl, she found little occasion to use 
 it. When one has always lived at tHe correct 
 number on Riverside Drive, and has no place 
 but teas to meet one's old friends and make new 
 ones, life ceases notably to excite. She lived 
 in a more unpretentious place now, for since 
 her parents' death had left her alone in the 
 world, and unexpectedly penniless as well, she 
 had supported herself teaching school. And 
 there was no excitement in that. 
 
 But Bettina, being a woman, hoped on. She 
 
 felt sure that she would only have to be good 
 
 and gentle and unselfish and get up early in 
 
 the morning after a dance and step bravely 
 
 under the cold shower, without stopping to 
 
 shiver, and all good things would come to her. 
 
 10 
 
BETTINA 
 
 She is not the first; many people have lived 
 and died in that belief. 
 
 But after two or three weeks of following the 
 formula, she was distinctly bored. The How- 
 ards are a very old and autocratic family. 
 They do not slum. 
 
 And besides, it was early Spring. One is 
 always so apt to be bored in early Spring. 
 
 Bettina was being called upon by William 
 Clark, her eminently proper fiance, who had 
 recently been admitted to the bar. It is a nice 
 question whether the punishment of calls falls 
 more heavily upon the sinner or the sinned 
 against. 
 
 " Let us hope," said Bettina, after a wide 
 pause, during which they both looked longingly 
 out of the window, " that in heaven there is no 
 calling or paying of calls." 
 
 William smiled indulgently. " Am I to 
 understand you're not having a good 
 time?" 
 
 " I've never had a good time in my life! " 
 she broke out. 
 
 " Few do," murmured William. 
 
 " Oh, it's all right about you. You're from 
 
 11 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 New England, and you get your thrills in 
 denying yourself thrills. But all my ancestors 
 came from Montana. I can't get drunk on 
 self-denial. I'm not a Boston Bacchanal. I 
 haven't it in me." 
 
 " I — ah — I wouldn't say we exactly get 
 drunk on self-denial, Bettina," he remon- 
 strated. 
 
 " Oh, yes, you do ! A man with a New Eng- 
 land conscience is like a man with a private 
 supply of liquor in his own cellars. A secret 
 tippler, or whatever it's called. He doesn't 
 have to go out and drink at public bars. Of 
 course I know there's no such thing as drinking 
 any more. Didn't they make a law about it or 
 something? But anyway, it's so convenient to 
 be a New Englander and find hilarious excite- 
 ment in constant battles between your better 
 self and your brute nature, like a baseball 
 series. It keeps you interested. It saves 
 money too. You never have to go to the movies 
 to be entertained." 
 
 " I should never go to the movies in any 
 
 case, I hope," said William with disapproval in 
 
 his tones. 
 
 12 
 
BETTINA 
 
 Bettina looked at him a moment. " No, you 
 wouldn't," she agreed despairingly. 
 
 " It's not that, though, really. It's not only a 
 good time." 
 
 " But " he asked leaning toward her 
 
 and looking at her through his aristocratic nose 
 glasses. He had the sort of thin, intellectual 
 face to which nose glasses are the necessary 
 finishing touch, like the cherry in a fruit lemon- 
 ade. " But what is it you want? " 
 
 " Oh, I want all sorts of things — like free- 
 dom." She was so earnest that she left her 
 stiff -backed chair and came and sat on the sofa 
 quite near him. " Intellectual freedom, I 
 mean. And progress." 
 
 " Hm — yes. Toward what? " 
 
 " Well, I hadn't thought." Her frank blue 
 eyes looked out trustfully at him. 
 
 " I'd like," she said after a wistful pause, 
 " to be at the center of things. Where new 
 movements are born." She looked into his face 
 for encouragement. " That sort of thing," she 
 elaborated hopefully. 
 
 " Ah— yes," said Clark. " Yes." 
 
 She punched a yellow sofa cushion into 
 
 13 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 shape as he'd seen her do a hundred times, dug 
 her elbow comfortably into it, leaned her head 
 on her hand, looked into his eyes and spoke 
 confidentially. 
 
 " It's a terrible thing to live among the 
 dead," she said plaintively. " Reactionaries. 
 People who are blind to the great things going 
 on about us." She looked earnestly at him. 
 
 " Movements," she said. 
 
 " Ah, yes." 
 
 " There is so much to be done." 
 
 " I dare say." 
 
 She became impassioned. " I want to know 
 life for myself, to see, and hear, and feel ! ' 
 
 " Well, I'm not sure that I should so much 
 advise feeling," he interposed cautiously. 
 
 " I want it! I want it all! " said Bettina. 
 
 He looked at his hands interestedly, and at 
 the rug. 
 
 " Life! " said Bettina. " I want to see life, 
 real, pulsating, naked! " 
 
 " Yes, as far as life goes, I dare say it would 
 be perfectly proper. It's only in art we object 
 to the nude." 
 
 " Art," she repeated. And her eyes 
 
 14 
 
BETTINA 
 
 sparkled. " To be with those who are the true 
 devotees of art, who give their lives to 
 her " 
 
 " Yes, yes." 
 
 " Those who bring the play spirit into art 
 and life," she said enthusiastically. 
 
 He felt then that a suspicion he had enter- 
 tained earlier in the conversation was con- 
 firmed. 
 
 " Bettina," he asked sadly, " have you been 
 seeing an announcement of one of those Green- 
 wich Village Balls? " 
 
 " Yes, I have." 
 
 " But — 
 
 
 " And I'm going.' 
 
 He resigned himself. " I shall take you. 5 
 
 " That wouldn't be the same thing at all ! 
 You wouldn't let me dance with the interesting 
 untidy ones." 
 
 " Certainly I shouldn't." 
 
 " And so I'm going by myself! " 
 
 "Bettina!" 
 
 There's nothing to be said about it.' 
 
 There's one thing to be said." He was 
 
 standing now, his shoulders firmly thrown back 
 
 15 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 with the proper degree of stiffness. " You are 
 my fiancee, and I shan't allow it." 
 
 Bettina stood up also. She slipped the ring 
 dexterously from her finger and into his pocket 
 and had backed out of reach before he could 
 divine her purpose. 
 
 " I could never have married j^ou anyway," 
 she said. " You would smother my person- 
 ality." 
 
 16 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 GOES TO A GREENWICH VILLAGE BALL 
 
 Foil a moment he looked viciously as if he 
 would have enjoyed smothering it. 
 
 Bettina drew a perceptible sigh of relief. 
 She was sampling the exhilarating brew of 
 freedom. 
 
 " That's over," she said. " And it will be a 
 long time before I ever get engaged again ! " 
 
 He might have answered that it would be a 
 long time before she did to him, but he thought 
 of that just as the bus passed the Joan of Arc 
 statue on his way home. 
 
 Bettina went to the dance. She was taken 
 
 there by the cousin of a girl with whom she had 
 
 gone to school, whose husband got the tickets 
 
 through an artist he had known in the trenches. 
 
 Everyone gets Greenwich Village ball tickets 
 
 in that roundabout way. Why it is so, is not 
 
 known. 
 
 17 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 Frantically on the last afternoon Bettina 
 had searched for a costume. She had vaguely 
 heard that the proper thing was considered to 
 be the piano cover or a strip of batik, but she 
 was not clever at these things. 
 
 After prowling about the costume shops 
 near Forty-seventh Street and Broadway, she 
 paid twelve dollars to rent for the night a prim 
 Dutch thing, with lace cap and sabots. She 
 didn't know what she would do with the sabots, 
 but bore her box away in triumph. 
 
 At the door of Webster Hall they waited 
 while the densely packed bread-line in front of 
 them clamored for tickets. 
 
 Once in, she blinked at the riot of color. The 
 dance was the annual Pagan Rout, this year 
 one blaze of gold. All the costumes were 
 golden, the walls were hung with gold, the ceil- 
 ings 
 
 " Gorgeous, isn't it? " said an easy voice at 
 her shoulder. She turned, and was surprised 
 to find that it did not belong to the cousin, the 
 husband or the relatives with whom she had 
 exchanged opinions about the weather on the 
 way. 
 
 18 
 
A VILLAGE BALL 
 
 " Rather good effect. Better than last year, 
 don't you think? " went on the voice, which was 
 attached to a pirate. 
 
 " I don't know. This is mv first," answered 
 Bettina, looking round her lace ear-things at 
 his black flapping-topped boots. 
 
 " Your first? " said the pirate joyously, and 
 Bettina saw no more of her own party that 
 evening. 
 
 After one dance, the pirate was gone, 
 whisked away by a Greek dryad with yellow 
 finger tips, and Bettina never saw him again. 
 But at her side someone else was inveigling 
 against Amy Howell's theory of the return in 
 polyrhythmic prose. He was a sort of checker- 
 board youth, done in black and white, but be- 
 fore they could dance, the crowd parted them. 
 Then an Apollo-like gentleman as tall and per- 
 fect as a statue, without a word swung past, 
 clutched her and swept her into the fox-trot 
 that was raging about them. 
 
 She was bewildered, but waited for him to 
 
 open the conversation, for she was not sure 
 
 enough whether or not free verse was or was 
 
 not too passe to be discussed. 
 
 19 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 But the perfect dancer said not a word. 
 They circled the crowded room again and 
 again. Then she discovered that he was kiss- 
 ing her hair. She was tall, but he was taller, 
 and she would not have known, surrounded as 
 she was by his shoulder, if she had not seen, in 
 a mirror which they flashed past. 
 
 " To-morrow, at four at The Blue Mush- 
 room," he said, breaking the silence casually. 
 
 " I beg your pardon? " 
 
 " To-morrow, at four at The Blue Mush- 
 room," he repeated patiently. 
 
 "Yes, I heard." But what about it? she 
 wanted to say, but refrained. 
 
 He danced on calmly. 
 
 She was puzzled, but suspected that perhaps 
 the man was under the influence of some drug, 
 heroin or one of those interesting things. 
 
 She became a bit alarmed, for as there were 
 two bands relieving each other, and in the 
 breath-taking half moment between dances he 
 went on holding her and started the next with 
 her calmly, she foresaw an evening spent in the 
 arms of her dumb partner. 
 
 " A quiet evening at any rate," she thought, 
 
 20 
 
A VILLAGE BALL 
 
 and then blushed for her descent into a lower 
 depth than puns. 
 
 But just as she was resolving to shriek for 
 help, the checker-board youth, appearing by a 
 miracle, jerked her from the statue and 
 whisked and pulled and pushed her through 
 some dance of his own invention, telling her 
 the particular scandal about anyone with 
 whom they collided, in the loudest sort of 
 tones. 
 
 Soon the evening resolved itself into a haze 
 of color and one pair of perspiring hands after 
 the other, one voice after another mixing 
 gossip, friend, imagism, and compliments into 
 a heady draught. 
 
 She grew interested in the enumerated quali- 
 ties of vers libre and her eyes, and decided that 
 she had heretofore overlooked possibilities in 
 them both. 
 
 One found and lost people. It was like life, 
 only speeded up. 
 
 After one of the features, a dance by Pan 
 
 and nymphs, she saw the checker-board youth 
 
 again. He had been sitting at the feet of two 
 
 bobbed and eyebrowed girls with lovely shoul- 
 
 21 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 ders and ankles, but he had smiled over their 
 heads at the Dutch maid against the wall. 
 
 " Dance this?" he said, as one of the two 
 alternating bands swung into a new waltz. 
 
 " I came to dance," she assented. 
 
 They floated out, lost themselves in the 
 melee, struggled through, bumped a stout bare- 
 footed gentleman and his eye-glassed partner, 
 and smiled at each other delightedly. This 
 time no one snatched either of them away, 
 and since it was a waltz, they had time to 
 talk. 
 
 " Live in the Village? " he asked. 
 
 " No," said Bettina. She wished she could 
 claim kinship with this brilliant, epigrammatic 
 race. But she must be honest. 
 
 " Mentally I belong to about a hundred and 
 tenth street," she confessed. 
 
 He flashed her a smile. " But fundamen- 
 tally—to the Village? " 
 
 She smiled too, with a trifle of acquiescence 
 in her look, and in the blue eyes, not obscured 
 from him by the curved lace flaps of her Dutch 
 cap, the bit of wickedness she had learnt earlier 
 in the evening to insert there. 
 
 22 
 
A VILLAGE BALL 
 
 She looked at him appraisingly. " Paint? 
 Write? Act? " she hazarded. 
 
 " With the Provincetown Players," he an- 
 swered the last. " And for Harry Kemp, only 
 he put me out last time because he's the only 
 man in the cast allowed to forget his lines. 
 Monopolist, with his views ! " 
 
 " But what do you do beside? " she per- 
 sisted. 
 
 A girl in red who was dancing past over- 
 heard. She leaned backward out of her part- 
 ner's arms. 
 
 " What! Hasn't Temp showed you any of 
 his poems yet?" she laughed, and was swept 
 out of sight. 
 
 " Oh, do! " begged Bettina. " I've always 
 wanted to meet a poet." 
 
 " You don't mean to say you don't know 
 anyone who writes? " He led her to a corner 
 of the room, where, finding all the benches oc- 
 cupied, he promptly sat down on the floor, and, 
 pulling her down beside him, produced some 
 crumpled papers from his sash. 
 
 " Absurd about costumes," he said. " No 
 
 pockets." 
 
 23 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " Read it! " she commanded. 
 
 And, shouting to drown the frenzy of the 
 negro band, he read it. 
 
 "How wonderful!" said Bettina, her eyes 
 misted and big with awe. And in that moment 
 he fell in love. 
 
 They danced again and again, changing 
 partners now and then, and making appoint- 
 ments to meet. " At that pillar," he had said 
 the last time. " Down in the left hand cor- 
 ner," where it seemed to Bettina when she 
 went there to wait, everyone else had planned 
 to meet also. The two had to fight their way 
 through to each other, and missed the Russian 
 band's first bar. 
 
 " I thought you wouldn't be able to find me," 
 she said. 
 
 " So did I," he answered. " Would you 
 have minded? " 
 
 " Yes," confessed Bettina. 
 
 His face lighted up. 
 
 " You dance so well," she finished. 
 
 The light went out. 
 
 She saw that she had said the wrong thing. 
 
 She was much distressed. 
 
 24 
 
A VILLAGE BALL 
 
 " I don't know how one talks down here," 
 she explained. 
 
 "Thank heaven!" he answered, as he dug 
 an elbow viciously into a stout lady in order to 
 wriggle into the mass of dancers. 
 
 " You're so different," he said, after they 
 had strugglingly circled the crowded hall. 
 
 " It's you who are different," she breathed, 
 and they looked at each other soulfully. 
 
 Time-honored formula! After two people 
 have found each other " different " there is no 
 hope. 
 
 As they were caught in the spell wrought by 
 their own rhythmic feet, he bent over her dazed 
 face, and said lovely things in a hushed voice. 
 
 The evening galloped hilariously on. With 
 every dance the two grew better acquainted. 
 The dances with other men began to seem to 
 Bettina mere interludes. 
 
 Finally, piloted by a perspiring partner, she 
 found herself seated in the refreshment room 
 at the next table to the checker-board youth. 
 
 He tilted his chair backward to be nearer the 
 
 lace flap over her ear. 
 
 " Let's get out of this," he said. 
 
 25 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 Bettina, seeing her iced lemonade approach- 
 ing on a waiter's tray, had a mighty longing, 
 but stifled it. 
 
 " But I'm thirsty," she allowed herself to 
 say, as he pulled her along by the hand. 
 
 " Come on," said he. " I'll read vou a 
 poem." And in the remark and answer Bet- 
 tina might have seen her whole possible future 
 life outlined, if she had been wise. 
 
 " Let's sit up-stairs and watch," he said, 
 pulling her toward the stairway. 
 
 He found her a chair and leaned against a 
 pillar beside her. She rested her arms on the 
 rail in the most picturesque pose she could 
 muster, and gazed down at the dissolving 
 picture. Color, gayety, joy! Ah, this was 
 life! 
 
 " It's splendid to live like this," she looked 
 at him enviously. 
 
 " The play spirit," said he. 
 
 She brightened. She had heard that before. 
 She looked at his serious eyes. 
 
 " How wonderful it must be to be a poet ! " 
 
 " It is," said he. 
 
 Neither spoke for a moment. They sur-> 
 
 26 
 
A VILLAGE BALL 
 
 rendered themselves to the silence, feeling it 
 draw them closer. 
 
 Presently, " Shall I read you a poem 
 now? " he asked. 
 
 "Oh, yes!" 
 
 He explored his sash again. 
 
 "There are no drowned men in her eyes," 
 
 he began. 
 
 " Oh," she breathed ecstatically. 
 
 " It is a great poem," she said, when he had 
 finished. 
 
 " Yes, it is," he answered earnestly. " But 
 here is one in which I captured the mood even 
 more completely." The reading went on and 
 on. Her admiration grew. 
 
 "But nothing rhymes?" she suggested, 
 rather bewilderedly. 
 
 " Oh, rhyme went out long ago! Why, free 
 verse is so old that no one ever even fights 
 about it now. It's taken for granted." 
 
 He folded up the last regretfully. Such a 
 listener is not always to be had. 
 
 " Sometime," said he softly, " I may do one 
 to you." 
 
 27 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 "Oh!" Bettina clasped her hands. Her 
 thoughts went scornfully back to William 
 Clark. He had never written a poem to her. 
 This, this was being alive, at last. How mar- 
 velous the world was ! She suddenly felt very 
 tender toward her mother, the cook, and the 
 news-dealer at the corner of their block. 
 
 28 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 BETTINA PAYS FOR THE TAXI 
 
 How Nature twists all things to her need! 
 Even poetry itself, she uses, as one more of the 
 bits of cheese wherewith to bait the trap she 
 sets for the unsuspecting feet of the man and 
 maid as yet unattached. 
 
 The dance went on. The music roared about 
 them, but they did not hear. They talked of 
 life and death, the common subjects of gossip 
 of the young. 
 
 He showed her his ambition, and she fed it, 
 as she might have a pet dog he had displayed. 
 
 Finally he spoke in a hushed voice: " I could 
 be the greatest poet in the world," he said, 
 
 " If what? " Bettina breathed. 
 
 '" If I had you." 
 
 There was a silence. 
 
 29 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " Oh, don't you think you could, anyway? ' 
 she asked, distressed. 
 
 But it appeared that he could not. 
 
 " You make me feel things freshly again. I 
 see the world with the eyes of a child! You 
 make everything alive, because you are so 
 alive yourself ! " 
 
 " I'm very glad," said Bettina, modestly. 
 
 " As soon as I saw you " he began. 
 
 " I, too," confessed Bettina. 
 
 They gazed at each other. Pierrots and 
 blue-painted Egyptians jostled them, but they 
 paid no heed. 
 
 " To live near the springs of beauty always, 
 to feel the rhythm of life," said he. 
 
 " Yes," said Bettina. How right she had 
 been to extricate herself from William's en- 
 gagement ring. Why, William had no con- 
 ception of things like this. She felt beauty 
 laving her like a pool in which one bathed, 
 making her a part of it. She seemed to breathe 
 in the atmosphere of poetry. She was sure that 
 she felt the rhythm of life. It was a delicious 
 feeling, something like being saved by an evan- 
 gelist at camp-meeting. 
 
 30 
 
BETTINA PAYS THE TAXI 
 
 " If we hadn't met," said the poet, awed. 
 
 Her eyes grew dark with the horror of it. 
 
 " You are the loveliest thing," he began. 
 
 " Hadn't we better dance? " she asked in 
 alarm. 
 
 " Of course we'd better. Shall we? " 
 
 " Well," said Bettina, with the innocent big 
 eyes of girlhood, " I am a little tired." 
 
 He looked around. Then he guided her into 
 the refreshment room. The party nearest 
 them were noisily receiving their orders. 
 
 " Dearest," he said. 
 
 " You mustn't," said Bettina. " But oh, 
 do!" 
 
 " You adorable thing! " 
 
 "Don't!" she cried then. "I like your 
 saying these things, but I don't think you 
 should." 
 
 " But I'm serious. Don't you see that I 
 mean it? " 
 
 " Mean what? " she asked innocently. 
 
 " That I'm madly in love with you." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 " But don't you like me? " 
 
 " Oh, yes." 
 
 31 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " I need you, your inspiration, you ! Marry 
 me!— Will you?" 
 
 " But I thought — Greenwich Village — free 
 love " she was embarrassed. 
 
 " Oh, we've outgrown all that," he said. " It 
 was only a pose. The individual, trying to 
 escape an old convention, found himself more 
 firmly chained by a new." 
 
 " Oh," said she, uncomprehending, but 
 polite. 
 
 "Then you will?" 
 
 She looked into his anxious eves, and felt the 
 rhythm of life more strongly than ever. 
 
 " Yes," she said faintly. 
 
 He kissed her without even looking round. 
 
 She liked the kiss. It had a quality quite un- 
 like one of William Clark's. This was like 
 drinking from a mountain spring, while the 
 other was like drinking from a teacup. 
 
 He drew her half behind the pillar, where 
 
 thev were sheltered bv the back of a fat man. 
 
 He held her closelv to him. She laid her head 
 
 on his shoulder. This, this, after all, was what 
 
 she had wanted. This was the goal for which 
 
 her restlessness had bade her blindly set out. 
 
 32 
 
BETTINA PAYS THE TAXI 
 
 And she had won it ! All that she had wanted 
 would be hers. 
 
 She looked up into his eyes. " How ex- 
 citing it will be," she whispered, " to be mar- 
 ried to a radical!" 
 
 The rest of the dance passed like a parade 
 which one is crowded back from seeing. They 
 were pushed and elbowed away from the con- 
 sciousness of it by the new and delicious emo- 
 tions which they could re-manufacture end- 
 lessly, simply by looking at each other. 
 
 At last the orchestra, cruelly dexterous, 
 swung from the waltz they were playing into 
 " Home, Sweet Home." Neither the orchestra 
 nor the dancers reflected that it was a queer 
 tune to be played at an all-night Greenwich 
 Village masquerade, for a horde of dancers 
 who had no homes. 
 
 As its muted notes swept over the room, 
 dancers tightened their clasps about each 
 other's necks, girls' Heads dropped to their 
 partners' shoulders, and sleepy lips met sleepy 
 lips in the frankest of kisses. 
 
 Bettina and he clutched each other in terror. 
 
 Was it over, then? 
 
 33 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " But we'll have all our lives together," he 
 whispered in tender comfort. 
 
 Yes, she knew. But to cease touching him, 
 to cease feeling his touch, when the music 
 stopped, was like a death to her. 
 
 She checked out her wraps, changed her 
 shoes and costume in a dressing-room crowded 
 with unseen, sleepy, powder-puffing women, 
 her mind in a sweet confusion. 
 
 She slipped down the stairs to find him wait- 
 ing for her. 
 
 " Why, it's light! " she cried as they shivered 
 at the first touch of the morning air. 
 
 " Of course — it's nine o'clock," he laughed. 
 "Breakfast at Polly's?" 
 
 " No, I think I'd better just go home. I'm 
 sleepy, and besides I want to be alone — to re- 
 member you." 
 
 A lone taxi hove in sight, and the huddled 
 crowd on the steps strove for it like cannibals 
 for one insufficient missionary. 
 
 " Flag the next," she implored. 
 
 They stowed themselves sleepily into the 
 next. 
 
 As it rolled noiselessly along Fifth Avenue, 
 
 34 
 
BETTINA PAYS THE TAXI 
 
 toward her home, she thrilled at the thought of 
 all that had passed since she left it. Her fate 
 had been met, her future was arranged, forever. 
 
 " Good-night," she whispered, turning for a 
 kiss just before the taxicab stopped. 
 
 " Good-morning! " he whispered back as he 
 kissed her, and they laughed out happily, each 
 certain that no one in the world before had ever 
 felt quite like this. 
 
 " But you'll have to pay for the taxi," said 
 her suitor, in an undertone. " I haven't a 
 cent." 
 
 If she could have seen exactly the far-reach- 
 ing implications of this beginning! If she 
 could have looked ahead ! 
 
 But Bettina, thinking no evil, paid for the 
 taxi. 
 
 35 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 " IT WILL BE SO EXCITING TO MARRY A RADICAL " 
 
 And the next morning Bettina 'phoned 
 William Clark, apologized very prettily, made 
 up the quarrel, and became reengaged to him. 
 
 She had learned a great many things at the 
 ball the night before — not all from " Temp," 
 and she was putting some of them into practice. 
 
 Next she 'phoned her two most intimate girl 
 friends, bribing them with a promise of news, 
 and when they came, theorized maddeningly 
 before she told them, and led them into discus- 
 sions which she fondly hoped were preparing 
 their minds for what she had to say. 
 
 Although it was, decoratively, modern 
 enough, there was nothing in Bettina's bache- 
 lor apartment that might shock one's mother, 
 except the conversation. 
 
 Ruth knew, no matter how primly it started, 
 
 what the conversation was apt to grow into, 
 
 3o 
 
SO EXCITING— A RADICAL 
 
 since Bettina had become restless. She knew, 
 and yet she always came. 
 
 " Ruth is one of those womenly women," 
 Bettina said, " and you can't keep them away 
 from any place where they think they're likely 
 to get a man, a bargain, or a shock." 
 
 Bettina was not a womanly woman, at least, 
 not now. She considered herself utterly free 
 from feminine charm. She was resolved no 
 longer to do her hair in papers. She would 
 strive to put the wavy undulations into her 
 brain instead. One needed to exert oneself far 
 less for that, after all. 
 
 She had never been interested in the vote, 
 even when it was out of reach. It was in their 
 emotional life that women needed to be free, she 
 asserted this afternoon. " The slavery of mar- 
 riage ! " she said glowingly. Not that she had 
 anything against marriage. No girl has. She 
 did not object to women being in cages, only 
 she wanted them to have an opportunity to 
 look leisurely about among the cages, and 
 choose the one they would later rage against 
 least, instead of popping into the first whose 
 
 door happened to open as they passed by. 
 
 37 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 Her blue eves were wide and interested, and 
 she sat up stiffly against the yellow cushions on 
 her black couch. 
 
 Ruth and Nadine and she had gone to board- 
 ing-school together, and, after the manner of 
 girls who have discussed tKe world of school in 
 kimonos and long braids, they still met desul- 
 torily to discuss the ways of the not so unlike 
 world outside school. 
 
 The three were very different. What 
 friends aren't? Ruth Avas all that her grand- 
 mother could wish. Nadine was emphatically 
 not. Bettina was tentatively feeling about life, 
 and had not yet decided what to be. 
 
 Ruth was a small, precise person, " The sort 
 that's always dutiful, and self-sacrificing, and 
 cattjr," Bettina said. But one has to have a 
 certain number of women friends of that type, 
 she realized. They so abound. 
 
 Nadine was a new woman, almost too new. 
 One hesitated about her, as one hesitates about 
 using a very new casserole, and finally chooses 
 the old chipped familiar one. Nadine had been 
 married and divorced; and greatly changed, 
 all at once, embittered and made wise and tol- 
 
 38 
 
SO EXCITING— A RADICAL 
 
 erant by one of the happenings, Bettina could 
 never be quite sure whether it was the marriage 
 or the divorce. 
 
 One forgot those things about Nadine, how- 
 ever. Her allure was so obviously that belong- 
 ing to girlhood and not to maturity. She was 
 a good friend, one to count upon, and Bettina 
 had learned enough about girls in boarding- 
 school to know how rare is a real girl friend. 
 
 Almost every woman is a good pal to almost 
 any man. No woman nowadays is so stupid as 
 not to know how well it pays. But hardly one 
 is quite self-sacrificing enough to deny herself 
 the civilized, complex, subtle pleasure to be 
 derived from having a dear woman friend al- 
 ways as conveniently by as the cushion on her 
 dressing-table, and for the same purpose. 
 
 Nadine never stuck pins into Bettina. She 
 was one of the few women who have enough 
 sex attraction to be able with impunity to prick 
 men's vanity instead of women's. 
 
 Nadine was tall and dark, scornful of eyes 
 and tone, quietly enjoying life's irony as it ex- 
 hibited itself in the experiences of her friends. 
 
 They were perfect friends to have. Bettina 
 
 39 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 knew that Nadine would not steal any of her 
 suitors, and that Ruth could not. Her affec- 
 tion for them both was sincere. 
 
 The three were thoroughly enjoying them- 
 selves this afternoon. They were talking about 
 life. It is a subject that is increasingly en- 
 grossing women. It bids fair soon to be more 
 popular than ruffles. With Bettina it was al- 
 ready. She was madly interested in life. She 
 had only just discovered it as a subject for con- 
 versation. So many people have. In fact, 
 with her the discovery was not yet tweny-four 
 hours old. 
 
 Nadine was a trifle weary of life, and Ruth 
 thought being alive at all somewhat indecorous, 
 but to Bettina it was a new toy which she in- 
 tended to seize and wind up at once. If its 
 mechanism was somewhat difficult, she was 
 quite confident that she could make it work. 
 She only wondered how she could have played 
 with other things contentedly for so long. 
 
 And the most fascinating problem of all was 
 marriage. It would be, because it is the hard- 
 est of all to get the right answer to. If anyone 
 ever does get the right answer. Nadine 
 
 40 
 
« 
 
 SO EXCITING— A RADICAL 
 
 thought no one did, and that there wasn't any 
 answer, anyway, and Bettina was too kind and 
 Ruth too unintelligent to reflect aloud that it 
 was just because Nadine had become mixed in 
 her figures half-way through, herself. 
 
 " Women always marry the wrong man," 
 stated Nadine, with conviction. " It's a basic 
 axiom, upon which all life is built." 
 
 Not modern women," objected Bettina. 
 
 The old-fashioned women, who took what 
 they were given — yes. But not feminists." 
 
 " No matter how people play the game of 
 marriage, they always lose," Nadine answered 
 gloomily. 
 
 " That's because they don't apply modern 
 methods," Bettina spoke excitedly. " If they 
 would only bring the scientific spirit to the 
 study of marriage, and not ' go it blind.' 
 
 " But what really do you mean they should 
 do? " interrupted Ruth impatiently. Ruth, be- 
 ing the sort of girl who is intended by nature 
 only for a good wife and mother, was always 
 impatient when anyone used big words. 
 
 "Well, I'm tired of girls going meekly 
 
 up to the altar and taking a chance on a man, 
 
 41 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 as we would on a silver bonbon dish at a church 
 fair. That's what marriage is, anyway, just a 
 church fair, and the women keep on coming to 
 buy, though they know no woman yet has ever 
 got her money's worth." 
 
 " I don't think you should talk that way, 
 Bettina," said Ruth, making her usual dignified 
 objection, which had no effect, but which quite 
 absolved her from any blame for whatever Bet- 
 tina might later proceed to say. 
 
 But Bettina said nothing more original than, 
 " Women always get the worst of it." 
 
 " I did," said Nadine laconically. 
 
 Bettina patted her hand. " I wasn't think- 
 ing of you. All women do. I expect to, my- 
 self. And that's why I wouldn't play by the 
 old rules, if I ever did play." 
 
 " No? " Nadine leaned over to select an- 
 other bonbon. She took the last tinsel — un- 
 wrapped it. Nadine was always indulgent to 
 herself in the matter of bonbons. It was only 
 in the big things of life that she was capable 
 of self-sacrifice. 
 
 " I shall act with logic and reason," Bettina 
 
 continued. 
 
 42 
 
SO EXCITING—A RADICAL 
 
 " Oh, Bettina ! " cried Ruth. " I knew you'd 
 do something unladylike! " 
 
 " I'm not going into it blindly, as every other 
 nice woman does. It's the method that's wrong. 
 We can't know what a man's like until it's too 
 late to exchange him. I intend to know." 
 
 " And if you knew, you think it would make 
 a difference? " Nadine's tone was only pleas- 
 antly conversational. " Why, if women did 
 test men, they wouldn't abide by the test any- 
 way." 
 
 " I would." 
 
 " Yes? " politely. 
 
 " Perhaps I'll show you some day." 
 
 " Do," invited Nadine cordially. 
 
 " You think I'm just talking, and that it will 
 never go beyond that ! " 
 
 " I hope it will not," from Ruth promptly. 
 
 " Women aren't so sentimental and blind 
 and illogical as you seem to think, Na- 
 dine!" 
 
 " No? " 
 
 " Oh, I should like to show you! " 
 
 "How?" asked Ruth practically. 
 
 " Well, I know what girls should start do- 
 
 43 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 ing, but they never will, I suppose. Girls like 
 us, I mean — but I intend to." 
 
 " What? " asked the curious Ruth. 
 
 There was a portentous silence in the blue 
 and yellow apartment. Bettina sat up 
 straighter on the black couch. " Did you ever 
 hear of trial marriage? " 
 
 " No," said Ruth hastily, with rigid prim- 
 ness. 
 
 " Then," said Bettina firmly, " it's time you 
 did." 
 
 " Quite," added Nadine, amused. " But, 
 Bettina, would you, yourself, go in for trial 
 marriage? " 
 
 " Yes," said Bettina, with the holy look of 
 one about to suffer martyrdom. 
 
 44 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 BETTINA AND THE ACID TEST 
 
 Ruth was the first to recover from the blow. 
 She did so by assuming that there had been no 
 blow. 
 
 " Bettina, be practical," she suggested. She 
 swept away these wild theories as something 
 that had no more to do with actual life than 
 poetry had, or Sunday thoughts. She was al- 
 ways more interested in the concrete than in 
 abstract suppositions, however shocking. 
 
 " You said," she went on plaintively, ' you 
 were engaged. And I cut a date with my 
 dressmaker to hear what he looks like. And 
 now you give us a lecture on ethics or some- 
 thing. I'm sure I don't know what! " 
 
 " I am engaged," announced Bettina. 
 
 No!" 
 
 Really?" 
 
 45 
 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " Well," answered Bettina, " before I said 
 ' yes ' or * no * finally, of course I said ' yes ' at 
 first — one always does — 
 
 >> 
 
 " Who is he? " cried Ruth. 
 
 " They/' corrected Bettina calmly. 
 
 "They!" 
 
 " Only two," B'ettina hastened to reassure 
 them. 
 
 " Only two," murmured Nadine. " How 
 old-fashioned ! " 
 
 Ruth looked at her with shocked eyes. " Oh, 
 Bettina ! Isn't it against the law to be engaged 
 to two men at once? " 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder. Laws are so absurd. 
 I am thinking of looking into anarchism. One 
 hears there are any number of interesting Rus- 
 sians at the Ferrar School, with curly hair — 
 a lovely blue-black." 
 
 " But the two? " 
 
 " One's William Clark. I've been engaged 
 
 to him for ages, and I'd have told you long ago, 
 
 if either of you'd been in town. You know I 
 
 never write letters. He's a lawyer." 
 
 A lawyer," repeated Ruth with approval. 
 
 The other's a poet." 
 
 46 
 
 u 
 «« 
 
THE ACID TEST 
 
 "A poet!" repeated Ruth, not with ap- 
 proval. 
 
 " Where did you meet him? ' Nadine was 
 enjoying the poet. 
 
 " At Webster Hall. Where does one meet 
 them?" 
 
 " A Greenwich Village masquerade? " asked 
 Nadine. 
 
 " Yes. I'd never been before, so I suppose 
 it rather went to my head." 
 
 " I should judge so," interposed Nadine 
 drily. 
 
 " Bettina, you weren't at a Village Ball? " 
 Ruth demanded, aghast. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Were the costumes " Ruth, being a 
 
 womanly woman, was obliged to hesitate. 
 
 " Yes, they were," admitted Bettina bluntly. 
 " But the floor and music were quite all right. 
 And everyone had a lovely time, except the 
 barefooted people who happened to be dancing 
 with pirates or cowboys or something that wore 
 boots." 
 
 " How can you talk about boots, when your 
 
 future's at stake? Tell us about the poet! " 
 
 47 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " I can't think what possessed him to ask 
 me," confessed Bettina in a puzzled tone. 
 
 " Had he been drinking? " inquired Ruth. 
 " For it's done somehow, even now, one hears." 
 
 " There's no one so sarcastic about proposals 
 as the girl who never gets them," observed Bet- 
 tina, with truth, but with bitterness as well. 
 
 " Oh, go on," Nadine waved off the personal 
 warfare impatiently. 
 
 " Well," said Bettina, " you know what 
 those Greenwich Village Balls are like. Up- 
 towners go to them as grown-ups go to the 
 circus, making apologies all the time, and pre- 
 tending they don't want to, when everyone 
 knows they wouldn't stay away for worlds. 
 And the Villagers go because it doesn't cost 
 anything, because they know someone on the 
 committee and can get tickets for nothing, and 
 because they can use the studio rug for a cos- 
 tume. It was a lovely ball. And all the proper 
 men I know were there, but all the nice im- 
 proper ones, artists and poets and the people 
 that sit in the basement at the Brevoort instead 
 of up-stairs, were there too, and I had to pre- 
 tend not to know the proper men so as not to 
 
 48 
 
THE ACID TEST 
 
 shock the poets, and not to know the poets, so 
 as not to shock the nice men. It's very difficult 
 attending a Village Ball ! " 
 
 " But the proposal! " interrupted Ruth. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! It was so different from the kind 
 one gets uptown. Now when William did it, 
 he led me up to it by talking in a low tone about 
 his mother. From that it was only a step to 
 asking me to marry him. I think it's taking 
 such an advantage of us, don't you, for a man 
 to tell one about his dead mother? It makes it 
 so difficult not to marry him." 
 
 " Marrying him," interposed Nadine, 
 grimly, " would have more difficulties if she 
 were alive." 
 
 " Yes, I've always been afraid of mothers- 
 in-law," agreed Ruth. " But now, that voting 
 and things are taking their attention, it's lovely 
 for brides." 
 
 " Betty, go on! Did you sajr yes? " 
 
 " Of course. One always says yes, first. It 
 
 isn't wicked then, to let him kiss you, because 
 
 you're engaged. And then you go home and 
 
 write him a note on pink stationery and tell 
 
 him it can never be. But you've had the kiss." 
 
 49 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " Bettina, how can you? ' cried Ruth in 
 shocked tones, but to herself she reflected, " I 
 never thought of that." 
 
 " Ah, so he kissed you," said Nadine. 
 
 " Yes, he did. It was in a corner, and some- 
 one was doing a dance with dyed scarfs and 
 bare feet and those Greek things, so no one 
 saw." 
 
 " What did it feel like? " asked Ruth. 
 
 " Not so bad as one would have thought. 
 He must have gone to a co-educational col- 
 lege." 
 
 " And so .you're going to marry him? " in- 
 quired Nadine drily. 
 
 "Oh, I didn't have time to decide that! 
 You know I always wear peacock blues and I 
 don't know yet how his hair goes with them. 
 There are so many things to be thought of. 
 One shouldn't enter into these things lightly." 
 
 " Is he a good poet? " Nadine was willing 
 to waive the discussing of the solemnity of mar- 
 riage. 
 
 " A wonderful one! He never once stepped 
 
 on my feet." 
 
 " But what's his name? " insisted Ruth. 
 
 50 
 
THE ACID TEST 
 
 " Why, I don't think I heard his last name. 
 His first name's Arthur. Or Egbert. Or 
 something like that. I'll ask him to-day. Re- 
 mind me, will you, dear? " 
 
 " You don't know his name? But — you 
 don't mean you'd just been introduced to him 
 when he proposed ! ' Ruth was more horrified 
 than ever. 
 
 " Oh, no." 
 
 " Oh," breathed Ruth, relieved. 
 
 " We weren't introduced at all. 
 
 " They call him * Temp ' — it's a nickname, 
 short for * Temperament,' " Betty explained, 
 still dreamily. 
 
 " Humph! " ejaculated Nadine. 
 
 " Oh, I suppose they did it to make fun of 
 him," confessed Betty calmly, " but I don't 
 care. I think it's romantic." 
 
 " This is growing interesting." Nadine took 
 another chocolate, and settled herself more 
 comfortably. 
 
 " We just saw each other. And we both 
 
 were rather good-looking, so we smiled, and he 
 
 came over, and we danced quite often. And 
 
 afterward, he asked me to marry him." 
 
 51 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " What was his idea? " 
 
 " He said he'd be a great poet anyway, but if 
 I would marry him and inspire him, he'd be the 
 greatest poet in America. And he said, the 
 way things looked now, it was really one's duty 
 to do what one could to further the cause of 
 American literature." 
 
 " But was that why he wanted you to marry 
 him?" 
 
 " Well, and he liked the way my mouth went 
 when I laughed, he said. And so I said I'd 
 marry him. And he kissed me in the opposite 
 corner of the room, while they were having a 
 pageant. He did it much better than William 
 used to." 
 
 " But which are you going to marry? " 
 
 " That's what I had you come for, to ex- 
 plain." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " It's just as I said, I don't know enough 
 about either of them." 
 
 " You might, if you waited a bit," Nadine 
 advised mildly. 
 
 " No, I wouldn't. After all, what more does 
 
 a woman know after she's gone to dinner with 
 
 52 
 
THE ACID TEST 
 
 him every other evening for a year, about a 
 man? Nothing." 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder if you're right," an- 
 swered Nadine wearily. 
 1 am. 
 
 " But what are you going to do about it? " 
 
 " I didn't sleep all night," confessed Bettina. 
 " You see, I'd broken with William — that's the 
 lawyer. And then I'd promised Temp. But 
 the more I thought of Temp, the more good 
 qualities I remembered about William, and the 
 more I thought of William, the more clearly I 
 could hear Temp's voice — saying things." 
 Bettina's eyes became dreamy. " And so I 
 knew that the only way to be really sure, for- 
 ever and ever, was to test them both." 
 
 " But, Betty, some other test " Ruth 
 
 was scandalized. 
 
 " Yes," said Bettina, contemptuously, " like 
 seeing which can make a million dollars first." 
 
 " But money does count. And you'll find it 
 out some day," vengefully. 
 
 " I wouldn't need to test them for that. I 
 
 know which could make a million dollars first," 
 
 said Bettina gloomily. 
 
 53 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " But you want to know which will make you 
 happiest? " 
 
 " Unhappiest," corrected Betty briefly. " I 
 prefer to find which will, before he's had a 
 chance to do it for life." 
 
 " Have they agreed to — take turns at being 
 tried? " Nadine was finding the affair in- 
 creasingly entertaining. 
 
 Betty brightened. " I haven't told them 
 yet," she confessed, and then explained, cheer- 
 fully. " That's why you're here. I've asked 
 them to call this morning for their answers. 
 They should be here now. You'll help me? ' 
 
 " Betty, give it up! " wailed Ruth. " You 
 really won't try marrying each? " 
 
 " For a month," said Bettina firmly. " And 
 then really marry the one that proves most con- 
 genial. It's the only moral and eugenic thing 
 to do — besides being the most interesting." 
 
 " If you propose any such thing to them," 
 warned Ruth, " you'll shock them." 
 
 " You can't shock a man," said Betty, 
 gloomily. 
 
 " Did you tell William you were engaged to 
 Temp?"' 
 
 54 
 
THE ACID TEST 
 
 " No," confessed Betty, rather shamefaced. 
 Then she brightened. " But I will when he 
 comes. I believe," she announced virtuously, 
 " in being absolutely honest." 
 
 " Yes," agreed Ruth, seeing no evil, " a girl 
 should be perfectly aboveboard with men." 
 
 " Well," said Betty, judiciously, " not too 
 awfully aboveboard, if you ask me! A man's 
 just like a mule. If you use only gentleness 
 and sweetness and loving kindness he'll never 
 notice your existence." 
 
 " They should be here now, shouldn't they? " 
 asked Ruth, glancing too casually into the mir- 
 ror opposite her chair, and making dabs at her 
 hair delicately. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Ruth dexterously hid her handkerchief in 
 her sleeve, but not so dexterously that Betty 
 did not see. Then she proceeded to search the 
 floor anxiouslv for it. 
 
 " I believe I've left my handkerchief in your 
 
 room, Betty," she said with a vexatious laugh 
 
 at her own carelessness. " I'll run up and get 
 
 it." 
 
 Bettina and Nadine exchanged glances. 
 
 55 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " Gone to primp," said the hostess briefly. 
 
 " It's those sweet, retiring, old-fashioned 
 girls who make the maddest clutch after any- 
 thing masculine. All this new talk about effi- 
 ciency is nothing. They're the most diabolic- 
 ally efficient thing the world has ever pro- 
 duced." 
 
 Nadine smiled. Bettina went on passion- 
 ately. " It's they who make our task so hard. 
 It never occurs to them to try a man out first. 
 They're a scourge to humanity. Every woman 
 born to be a door-mat ought to be killed at 
 birth." 
 
 Ruth's step. was heard, and Bettina stopped 
 abruptly. 
 
 " I found it just in front of the mirror," said 
 Ruth. 
 
 " I'll warrant you did," answered Betty 
 grimly. 
 
 " Which is to call first? " asked Nadine, in 
 an effort to promote peace. 
 
 " William." 
 
 "They'll never consent!" Ruth insisted. 
 " Especially the lawyer." 
 
 Nadine looked at Betty. " I think," she said 
 
 56 
 
THE ACID TEST 
 
 tentatively, " you would have been wiser to 
 have had the poet first." 
 
 Some instinct, or vision, or clarifying of 
 ideas having no connection with their talk, sud- 
 denly gave Betty a realization of what she had 
 been on the verge of proposing. 
 
 " I can't do it ! " she cried out. " I'll not say 
 a word to them ! Perhaps they won't come." 
 
 A sharp ring of the door-bell startled them. 
 The three sat silent, stricken. 
 
 After a pause, Hilary, the maid, entered. 
 
 " A gentleman to see you, Miss Bettina." 
 
 Betty turned a stricken gaze toward her. 
 Then she recovered. 
 
 " Perhaps it's someone else," she suggested. 
 " What does he look like? " 
 
 " Not like anyone who ever came here be- 
 fore, Miss." 
 
 Betty wilted. " It's the poet. They always 
 look like that!" 
 
 At that instant there came a second loud peal 
 at the door. 
 
 Both of them ! " groaned Bettina. 
 
 €t 
 
 57 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 " WELL," SAID BETTINA, " I WAS THINKING OF 
 
 A MONTH " 
 
 The inspiration that rises in the soul to meet 
 a crisis came to Betty. 
 
 " Tell them I'm out," she whispered. 
 
 " I've already told the first one you're in. 
 You said " 
 
 " Make them wait," she groaned, remember- 
 ing. She must gain time. 
 
 The maid was about to leave the room, when 
 her mistress looked sharply at her, and stopped 
 her with a gesture. 
 
 " Why, Hilary, you've been crying. What's 
 the matter? " 
 
 " Nothing, Miss Bettina." 
 
 Betty gazed doubtfully at her, but since her 
 own troubles, for the moment, seemed enough, 
 was tempted to allow her to go without further 
 comment. Still, that she was doing her duty in 
 
 58 
 
WELL— A MONTH 
 
 a big cause, should not interfere with her duty 
 in lesser things; so she said severely: 
 
 " Are you busy just now? " 
 
 Hilary was. 
 
 " Well, as soon as you're through, come di- 
 rectly in to me. Do you hear? " giving her a 
 good-humored shake. 
 
 The maid promised and went out hastily. 
 
 " I've undertaken Hilary's education in 
 modern movements. I see that she reads the 
 New Republic every week, and I've explained 
 to her what socialism is." 
 
 "Admirable," praised Nadine; the irony in 
 her voice, broad as it was, was quite lost on 
 Betty. 
 
 " They're probably sitting on opposite chairs 
 in there, glaring at each other," giggled Bet- 
 tina. " Well, let them glare! " 
 
 " But you'll have to see them sometime," 
 Nadine pointed out, impatiently. 
 
 " Yes," Ruth urged, alert. 
 
 Bettina reached out patiently and rang for 
 Hilary. " Show them in," she whispered. 
 
 The two callers entered at the same moment, 
 
 ushered in by Hilary. 
 
 59 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 The lawyer was too correctly dressed, but 
 Temp had curly hair, so it really didn't matter 
 what he wore. As a matter of fact, it was a 
 corduroy suit that looked as if he'd slept in it 
 — as, indeed, he had. Both men started for- 
 ward, got in each other's way, and glared bel- 
 ligerently. 
 
 " Oh," groaned Bettina, and shut her eyes. 
 
 " Miss Howard," said Mr. Clark. 
 
 " Betty," said the poet, and in these two ex- 
 clamations they showed the difference in their 
 methods of attack. 
 
 " Is anything the matter? " they asked sim- 
 ultaneously. 
 
 " Water," breathed Betty faintly. 
 
 Hilary went out quickly. 
 
 " She isn't feeling very well to-day," ex- 
 plained Nadine easily. " A little excited — 
 her voice trailed off. 
 
 >» 
 
 " I know, I know," answered Temp quickly. 
 He was well aware of the cause of her excite- 
 ment. 
 
 Unfortunately William Clark was con- 
 vinced that he also was. 
 
 " I understand," he said meltingly. 
 
 60 
 
WELL— A MONTH 
 
 Betty groaned again. 
 
 " Perhaps the corner drug store " Mr. 
 
 Clark was already turning toward the door. 
 
 Hilary, hurrying in with the glass of water, 
 almost upset him. 
 
 " Oh, no," said Ruth, taking the glass, and 
 as she crossed to Bettina, giving the lawyer a 
 gentle, womanly smile. " You're so kind." 
 Then she knelt becomingly, and pressed the 
 water to Bettina's lips. 
 
 " I'm quite all right now," whispered Betty 
 bravely. " It was just a — shock." 
 
 Temp glared at his rival. " Of course," said 
 he. 
 
 The lawyer glared witheringly back. 
 
 " I quite understand," said he. 
 
 Ruth, still kneeling, addressed her friend in 
 the natural, sweet-toned voice she used only 
 when men were present. 
 
 " Are you sure you're all right, now, dear? " 
 
 Bettina's voice came, still faint. " I think 
 perhaps a little tea — Nadine, will you ring? " 
 
 Nadine rang, and at Hilary's entrance spoke 
 
 about the tea. 
 
 In the meantime Ruth was bustling about, 
 
 61 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 helping Bettina from the armchair into which 
 she had sunk, making her lie down on the couch 
 and tucking Nadine's best party scarf over her 
 feet. 
 
 The two callers still glared. 
 
 " If you'd all not mind leaving me alone for 
 a minute? " Betty closed her eyes and lay list- 
 less. " You can introduce each other," she re- 
 membered her duty as hostess. 
 
 " Quite the best thing," said Mr. Clark. 
 " We'll go out and talk together a bit." 
 
 " Yes. Let's," answered Ruth, with a melt- 
 ing glance. 
 
 They turned to leave. 
 
 As they all passed her, the supine Betty sud- 
 denly shot out a hand and clutched Nadine's 
 arm with a vicious grip. Nadine suppressed a 
 cry, and stopped. The others went on. Betty 
 still lay like one dead. 
 
 " They're gone," Nadine whispered, stoop- 
 ing. 
 
 Betty sat up with the suddenness of an ap- 
 parition. Her languid voice changed to one of 
 cool command. With a quick glance at the 
 
 door she said tensely: " Send the poet in to me. 
 
 62 
 
WELL— A MONTH 
 
 Keep the others. When Temp goes out, send 
 the lawyer." 
 
 Nadine raised her hand in a salute and fol- 
 lowed the others with a grin. Betty watched 
 her out, sitting up, tense and dynamic. Then, 
 as the door closed, sank back on the couch, and 
 closed her eyes. Suddenly she came alive 
 again, readjusted the couch cover more effect- 
 ively, and resumed her pose. 
 
 Temp entered softly. " You adorable 
 thing! " he breathed. 
 
 Suddenly forgetting her role, she sat up, 
 tossing the scarf unceremoniously into space. 
 
 "Temp!" 
 
 " Are you going to say * yes * or ' no '? " 
 
 " Well, you see " 
 
 " Because it really doesn't matter! You'll 
 love me anyway, in the end ! " 
 
 " Oh, Temp ! " her voice became mellow and 
 tender, exquisitely yielding. 
 
 "Most women do!" he finished cheer- 
 fully. ^ 
 
 Bettina was shocked. She walked with dig- 
 nity over toward the window, and looked out 
 interestedly. 
 
 63 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " But they don't count," he pleaded. 
 " Nothing will ever count any more, but 
 you." 
 
 She turned back forgivingly. 
 
 Temp ran his fingers through his poetic hair. 
 His voice was fervent, but honest. " If you 
 would marry me I'd cover the paths of the 
 world with flowers for your feet." 
 
 " How exciting," said Bettina placidly com- 
 ing closer, clasping her hands. 
 
 " I would build a wall with my arms to pro- 
 tect you from the world's hurts. No worry 
 should ever touch your pure white brow." 
 Moving closer, he tried to kiss her pure white 
 brow. 
 
 She evaded him adroitly, but did not wholly 
 discourage him. " That would be nice," she 
 said. 
 
 " My heart would break if you refused me. 
 — Do you mean to refuse me? " 
 
 " Well, not exactly that." 
 
 " You accept me? " he cried, transported. 
 
 " Well, not exactly that." 
 
 " I will make your life one round of joy. 
 
 Will you let me take care of you forever? 
 
 64 
 
WELL— A MONTH 
 
 Forever! Forever!" with ecstasy he re- 
 peated. 
 
 11 Well," she said judicially, " I was think- 
 ing of a month." 
 
 65 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 FOR THE GOOD OF THE RACE 
 
 " Ah — I beg your pardon? " he was utterly 
 taken aback. 
 
 Bettina considered her manner of attack. 
 
 " You've heard about trial marriage? ' 
 
 " I live in Greenwich Village/' he answered 
 sadly. 
 
 " Oh, yes, they invented it, didn't they? Al- 
 though I should have said that Paris and Helen 
 thought of it first. At nny rate, I've decided 
 that it is the sensible, scientific thing, in fact, 
 that it's the only moral thing. I consider it my 
 duty to my grandchildren." 
 
 "Your grandchildren!" Temp looked 
 around the room in startled fashion, as if he 
 expected to see them lurking about. 
 
 " All my descendents," she answered de- 
 
 cidedlv. " In fact, the race." 
 
 " Oh, yes, yes. Quite so." 
 
 66 
 
GOOD OF THE RACE 
 
 "You don't object?" 
 
 "Object? Why should I?" he said in- 
 dignantly. " Certainly not." 
 
 " Then you do approve of doing it." 
 
 " Yes, indeed," he answered heartily, even 
 enthusiastically. 
 
 She was immeasurably relieved. " You 
 don't think it in the least — improper? " 
 
 " Anyone who thought it improper would be 
 a fool!" 
 
 —"Or a bit rash?" 
 
 " Not at all." His tones were emphatic. 
 
 " Then that's settled," she sighed, more re- 
 lieved than ever. 
 
 " You dear ! How wonderful for a woman 
 to decide a momentous thing like that so sud- 
 denly!" 
 
 " Well, not exactly suddenly," Bettina an- 
 swered modestly. " I've been thinking about 
 it, off and on, ever since last evening." 
 
 " But you will really do it? " it was he now 
 who was anxious. 
 
 " Oh, yes." 
 
 " You have splendid courage! " his eyes ad- 
 mired her courage. 
 
 67 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " That wasn't what Ruth said," Betty re- 
 membered, doubtfully. 
 
 His whole pose was radiant with idealism. 
 " Of course you will be criticized. Little minds 
 will try to hinder you. But don't let anyone 
 dissuade you! Don't listen to what anyone 
 says ! " 
 
 "I won't!" cried Betty, catching his en- 
 thusiasm. 
 
 " Be brave!" 
 
 "I will!" 
 
 " My darling! " his voice was tender. 
 
 " I knew you'd understand, and see that it is 
 necessary." 
 
 "I do! It is!" 
 
 " You're certain that I ought to do it? " 
 
 " Certain." 
 
 " I'm so glad. Because now you can help 
 me persuade the others. I'm afraid that they 
 don't really quite understand. The girls 
 thought it rash, I gathered." 
 
 " I shall explain. I shall tell them that it is 
 an imperative need of your nature." 
 
 11 Oh, thank you so much," she said with sin- 
 cerity. 
 
 68 
 
GOOD OF THE RACE 
 
 " Not at all. I know what a woman's nature 
 
 is." 
 
 " I'm so glad," she answered simply. " I've 
 often been a little worried about it myself." 
 
 " Whatever your heart commands you, you 
 may safely do." 
 
 " I'm relieved to hear that. You'll tell them 
 that too? " she asked, gratefully, but cannily. 
 
 " Yes, child. You may trust it to me," he 
 promised gently. 
 
 She broke in quietly, " I think, Temp dear, 
 if you left me alone to collect my thoughts a 
 bit before they come in " 
 
 " Yes, yes, child. You need to be alone." 
 He kissed her hand, which she extended some- 
 what absent-mindedly, and tiptoed out. 
 
 A moment after, William Clark entered, 
 carefully closing the door behind him. 
 
 " Miss Nadine said she thought I might see 
 you for just a moment, now that you've been 
 alone and rested. Do you feel better? ' 
 
 "Oh, so much better, Mr. Clark— Will- 
 
 • 5J 
 
 iam. 
 
 " I can't talk of anything else," he said 
 
 simply. " Is it to be ' yes ' or ' no '? " 
 
 69 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 Bettina beamed at him. " I don't know. 
 But I've thought of a lovely method of finding 
 out." 
 
 " I beg your pardon." 
 
 She explained in brisk tones. " You see a 
 girl's heart is such a frightened, uncertain 
 thing, Mr. Clark— William." 
 I m sure it is. 
 
 " It's so difficult to tell what we really want. 
 — At any rate, it's so difficult to tell other peo- 
 ple." 
 
 " I quite see it." 
 
 " That is, other people beside you." 
 
 " Precisely." 
 
 " There, I knew you wouldn't disapprove," 
 she purred. 
 
 "Of what?" 
 
 Her hesitation was scarcely perceptible. 
 " Have you heard of trial marriage? " 
 
 " Yes," said he sadly, " but I was hoping 
 that you hadn't." 
 
 " I never had until lately," she answered 
 brightly. " Isn't it stupendous the number of 
 interesting things that are kept from nice 
 women? It's so much easier to make conversa- 
 
 70 
 
GOOD OF THE RACE 
 
 tion at one's dinner parties now that all these 
 things are coming out." 
 
 " But you're not going to make conversation 
 of this, are you? " He leaned forward in his 
 chair, alarmed. 
 
 " No. I'm going to make use of it." 
 
 " Miss Howard! Betty! " he cried, spring- 
 ing up in agitation. 
 
 " I thought you'd be interested." Her blue 
 eyes looked at him reproachfully. 
 
 Sitting down again, he drew his chair closer 
 to dissuade her. 
 
 " I don't like to marry a man until I've 
 found out what he's really like," she inter- 
 rupted. 
 
 " But you'd never marry him then," he 
 objected in honest distress. " Me, I 
 mean." 
 
 Betty looked downcast, but brightened. 
 " But there are other men. There must be 
 quite hundreds. One sees them on the street 
 when one goes shopping," she returned confi- 
 dently. 
 
 " Still, no woman can test them all. She'd 
 spend her whole life doing it." 
 
 71 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " But what a way to spend one's life! " she 
 clasped her hands in delight. 
 
 " I hope you aren't serious," he commented 
 stiffly. 
 
 " Trial marriage? But I assure you," she 
 said earnestly, " it really isn't awful at all. I 
 know a girl who did it, and she said it was per- 
 fectly entrancing. They experimented for six 
 months, and they proved to be so happy that 
 they married — but after that they were never 
 happy again," she was forced to admit the 
 truth. 
 
 " My dear Miss Howard — Betty. I can't 
 approve of your knowing such people. No 
 real man would do such a thing." 
 
 " Wouldn't you? " 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 "No," she said, kindly but thoughtfully, 
 " you probably wouldn't. I dare say it takes 
 courage." 
 
 " I have courage, I hope," he said 
 coldly. 
 
 Oh, I hope so too! " she brightened. 
 But not that kind." He withered her 
 hopes. 
 
 72 
 
 
GOOD OF THE RACE 
 
 " What kind is it? " she asked, with real in- 
 terest. 
 
 He chose to ignore her question. " You 
 must put your foolish project out of your mind. 
 It is wrong. And besides, what would your 
 girl friends think? " 
 
 " They'd hate me." 
 
 " Exactly," he said with satisfaction. 
 
 " Because I was having such an entrancing 
 time ! " she finished. 
 
 He ignored her flippancy. " Promise me 
 you won't mention it again ! " 
 
 " Then you'll not be trial-married to me? " 
 she asked mournfully. 
 
 " No ! " said he, rising and stalking about, 
 like the hero he was. 
 
 " It's only for a month," she pleaded. 
 
 " For a month is quite as bad as perma- 
 nently," he pronounced. 
 
 Her face cleared. " Oh, would you do it 
 permanently? " 
 
 " Certainly not," coldly. " Will you marry 
 
 me? " he had the air of one who asks a question 
 
 for positively the last time. 
 
 73 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " You're willing to take a chance on me? " 
 she said plaintively. 
 
 " Yes, I am. Then why shouldn't you be? " 
 
 " But you see a man isn't taking much of a 
 chance on any woman. He knows what she is 
 like anyway. We show so. Now, men don't. 
 One never knows what they're like by looking. 
 Especially lawyers. You're trained to deceive. 
 How I should love to hear of a man marrying 
 a woman lawyer," she gloated. " But have 
 you ever heard of one? You see, they know 
 better." 
 
 He paid no attention to her tirade. He was 
 traveling with the discomfort common to 
 travelers, in his own train of thought. 
 
 " You'll give it up," he announced master- 
 fully. 
 
 " And marry you blind? Certainly I shan't. 
 What with the Pure Food laws and having 
 one's own scales in the kitchen, women to-day 
 are demanding to learn what they're getting. 
 And even if you don't, I think husbands are 
 vastly more important than what percentage 
 of coloring matter there is in baking powder 
 and how many pounds there are in beefsteak." 
 
 74 
 
GOOD OF THE RACE 
 
 " Other women take a chance." 
 
 " So I understand," drily. 
 
 " But if you'd just be logical," he pleaded 
 hopelessly. 
 
 " You've no idea how it detracts from one's 
 looks. Haven't you ever noticed the girls at 
 co-educational colleges? " 
 
 " Looks aren't everything," he said gloom- 
 ily. 
 
 " No." She gazed across into the mirror and 
 
 patted her hair. " But they're nearly every- 
 thing, don't you think? " 
 
 " Betty ! If I could only prove to you you're 
 wrong!" She quite understood he did not 
 mean about looks. 
 
 " Yes," she answered, with sympathy and 
 respect. " If anyone could prove right wrong, 
 I'm sure you could." 
 
 He groaned. 
 
 " Then you won't do it," she summed it up. 
 
 " Oh, I'll do it," he surrendered, irritably. 
 
 " Anything to get you, anything! " he said, still 
 
 half groaning, but determined, distasteful as 
 
 the method might be, to win. 
 
 At his words she glowed, suddenly a radiant, 
 
 75 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 triumphant being. " Then everything's all 
 right now. Let's tell them." 
 
 " Good gracious! " he clutched at her arm, 
 but she had already thrown the door open, and 
 the rest trooped in. 
 
 " I've — I've made a decision," Bettina an- 
 nounced, her eyes very grave and holy, as the 
 girls placed themselves picturesquely against 
 her cushions, and the men seated awkwardly 
 and inartistically in the background. " And 
 T want to tell you all about it at once." 
 
 Temp watched Bettina with a gaze trium- 
 phant, bland, and self-congratulatory. 
 
 So did William Clark. 
 
 Each felt that she was about to do a very 
 fine, brave thing and that he must help her 
 carry it through. And each glowed with a 
 masculine vanity quite unsuspected by his 
 heroic self. 
 
 " Love's quite different," Bettina began her 
 preparatory speech simply, looking most ap- 
 pealing in her best afternoon frock and her new 
 dignity, "from what it was in our parents' 
 time, I think. Or else they don't tell us the 
 
 truth about when they were young." 
 
 *76 
 
GOOD OF THE RACE 
 
 " Any more," murmured Nadine, " than 
 you'll tell your granddaughter what you're dis- 
 cussing to-day." 
 
 "Oh, but I shall!" Bettina's eyes were 
 wide and indignant. " I mean that my wis- 
 dom, hard won though it be, shall be of use to 
 her ! I'm taking the one way of learning any- 
 thing that could help her. The one infallible 
 guide," Bettina was marching along more con- 
 fidently now. Trite ground is always easier 
 marching. " The one infallible guide is ex- 
 perience. One's own, of course. We can't," 
 insisted Bettina earnestly, " be saved from do- 
 ing foolish things by hearing of others' mis- 
 takes. That's what makes life so full and inter- 
 esting." Her eyes glowed. 
 
 " But you're so inconsistent," objected Na- 
 dine gently. " I thought your experience was 
 to save your granddaughter! " 
 
 " And then," Betty not only acknowledged 
 the weakness of her position, but went even 
 further, " judging by Mendell's rules, and by 
 tendencies and throwbacks and all that, I ought 
 to have a very proper granddaughter." She 
 
 pondered. 
 
 77 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " Still," she said brightly, in a moment, " one 
 shouldn't think only of one's own personal 
 granddaughter, should one? And, anyway, 
 I've quite made up my mind." 
 
 " And his? " asked Nadine in a whisper. 
 
 " Yes," answered Bettina, quite unconscious 
 of anything amusing. 
 
 " Trial marriage? " asked Nadine. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " When? " 
 
 Both men looked at her expectantly. 
 
 "At once," her voice was firm. 
 
 Both men seemed pleased. 
 
 " And I'm sure you all agree with me it's 
 quite the thing to do." 
 
 " Quite," said Temp in emphatic tones. 
 
 " Quite," answered William Clark, in tones 
 no less emphatic. 
 
 The girls, being speechless, were understood 
 as acquiescing. 
 
 "Then that's settled," said Bettina again, 
 this time with a final and satisfied sigh. " I'll 
 try a month with each." 
 
 78 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 BETTINA TAKES HER HAT AND GOES 
 
 "What!" Both men sprang from their 
 chairs at the same instant. 
 
 Bettina was amazed. " Why, you said you 
 approved!" she reproachfully fixed her hurt 
 eyes on each of them. 
 
 " But not with him! " both shouted. 
 
 " It's outrageous! " gasped William Clark. 
 
 " But you just promised to do it," marveled 
 Bettina. 
 
 " It's — it's immoral," stuttered Temp. 
 
 She turned amazed eyes upon him. " You 
 just said it wasn't! " 
 
 " But I didn't know you were going to try 
 it with him!" 
 
 Both men talked at once, in tones of horror 
 
 and mounting rage. 
 
 " Dear me," said Bettina. 
 
 79 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " The way of the reformer is hard," mur- 
 mured Nadine. 
 
 "It is the principle of the thing I care 
 about," announced Betty firmly, getting the 
 reins in her hands again. " If you two don't 
 want to experiment for the good of humanity, 
 I don't doubt that I can find someone else who 
 
 wm." 
 
 The two were frozen into silence. They did 
 not doubt it themselves. 
 
 " I'll do it," said Temp, in a small voice. 
 
 " And I," added William Clark meekly. 
 
 Bettina went on, calmly ignoring their 
 misery. 
 
 " You live with such utterly different back- 
 grounds. I shall never know unless I tried 
 each, which I preferred. First I shall go to 
 Greenwich Village." 
 
 She did not notice the collapsed appearance 
 of the spruce and dapper Mr. Clark. 
 
 " The Village," corrected Nadine. " Time 
 
 was when it was ' Greenwich Village,' but now 
 
 to say anything but the Village, places one at 
 
 once as not being of the elect." 
 
 " Not there! " pleaded Mr. Clark. 
 
 80 
 
BETTINA GOES 
 
 " Oh, I don't believe it's as interesting as you 
 think," Betty reassured him, while Temp took 
 up a proprietary position at her side. " I 
 heard that people kissed at the Brevoort. So 
 I went there with a party, and we all sat there 
 all evening, eating the most amazing assort- 
 ment of things." 
 
 " Didn't you see even one kiss? " asked 
 Ruth. 
 
 " One." Betty was truthful, but she added 
 in a tone of disappointment, " But I was told 
 afterward that they were married." 
 
 " Betty! Give it up! " Clark came nearer 
 and spoke pleadingly. 
 
 " Our parents," Betty told him in her best 
 lecture tones, " used to learn from books. This 
 generation believes in the laboratory method." 
 
 " But why don't you really marry? " Clark 
 would rather give her up than countenance 
 such rashness. " It's more decent." 
 
 " Are you sure," Betty turned to him inter- 
 estedly, " or did you, like Thompson, get it out 
 of a book?" 
 
 " He couldn't," interjected Nadine, looking 
 
 across at Clark pityingly. " Most books now- 
 
 81 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 adays are written to show how indecent mar- 
 riage is." 
 
 "Really!" William was in distress. He 
 turned on the two. " Didn't your mothers 
 teach you there are some things too sacred to 
 be mentioned? " 
 
 " But it was you, William, who mentioned 
 marriage first," Betty pointed out truthfully. 
 
 " But to think of your talking about trial 
 marriage! " 
 
 " Don't be shocked," Bettv comforted him. 
 
 It isn't as if I were only talking of it, to make 
 
 a 
 
 conversation. You see, I'm really going to do 
 it." 
 
 He groaned. 
 
 Ruth felt for him. She pleaded with Betty. 
 
 " People will cut you." 
 
 " We won't see them." 
 
 " All uptown goes slumming," Nadine re- 
 minded her. " One meets one's mother's 
 schoolmates in every tea-room." 
 
 " Yes, but we won't be in tea-rooms. You 
 see I'm marrying a Villager. And no Villager 
 ever frequents the Village. It's like the Wool- 
 worth Tower — it only appeals to outsiders.' 
 
 82 
 
 » 
 
BETTINA GOES 
 
 " Where are the real Villagers, then? " 
 Ruth wanted to know. 
 
 " In their studios, I suppose," answered 
 Betty. 
 
 " More likely in each other's, from what one 
 hears," murmured Nadine. 
 
 There was a strangled sound from Will- 
 iam. 
 
 " Betty, honey," he pleaded, with the world- 
 old power that does not depend upon logic, but 
 upon eyelashes and things. " We're all being 
 hysterical. Let's let all this go." He looked 
 very handsome and very much in love. It is 
 difficult to tell which is the more moving to a 
 girl. 
 
 Bettina visibly weakened. 
 
 Then Temp bent over her. If William was 
 handsome at the moment, what could be said 
 of Temp? He looked a young god, negli- 
 gently lighting on earth for a few idle mo- 
 ments. One wanted to clutch him and take no 
 chances. 
 
 " Let someone else experiment," he sug- 
 gested, looking down beneath all the ordinary 
 
 things in her eyes, and stirring up things from 
 
 83 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 the deeps that had never come to the surface 
 before. 
 
 It wasn't what he said, but the wonder of 
 that look. 
 
 The others wisely rested their case. There 
 was a silence. Betty sat, thinking it all over. 
 
 They waited a long time. Then, " I'll give 
 it up," she renounced many things in that sigh, 
 but she was cheerfully courageous, and deter- 
 mined not to mourn. She meant to be a good 
 loser. 
 
 Her sigh was echoed by four others, pal- 
 pably of relief. 
 
 She rose, and shrugged the burdens of hu- 
 manity from her shoulders with a gesture which 
 she must have known was becoming. 
 
 " Well," she said briskly, in a voice that 
 advertised her readiness to let bygones be by- 
 gones, " shall we have some tea? " She rang. 
 
 Hilary answered. From the way she came 
 into the room, one could see that she had ex- 
 pected Betty now to be alone. Her cheeks 
 were swollen, her eyelids still clinging moistily, 
 and her usual effacing calm was routed. 
 
 Betty went to her at once. 
 
 84 
 
BETTINA GOES 
 
 There was a murmur of explanation and 
 vague comforting. 
 
 "He's left me!" the others could hear. 
 " And even taken the silver! " 
 
 " Her husband. Her wedding silver," 
 Betty explained briefly, turning dramatically 
 to the others. 
 
 A sympathetic murmur answered her. 
 
 " And I saw them married. A veil and 
 everything. With two rings," enumerated 
 Betty viciously. She put her arm protectingly 
 about her weeping maid's shoulders, and faced 
 the world. 
 
 " This is what happens when one gets prop- 
 erly married ! " she cried. " Now you see ! 
 This proves how necessary it is to test them 
 first!" 
 
 Nadine turned a look of distaste and enu- 
 merating scorn upon her hostess' two suitors. 
 She seemed to be summing up their faults. 
 
 " Still, I don't believe they'd steal your sil- 
 ver, Betty," she murmured reflectively. 
 
 Bettina took no notice. 
 
 " This is the way it's always been ! " she cried 
 furiously. " Someone's got to do something! " 
 
 85 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 All was lost. She was determined to go ahead 
 with her plan, and this time she was not to be 
 diverted. 
 
 William realized it, and groaned audibly. 
 
 Bettina looked at him with the calm, dis- 
 secting eye of a physician. " And I think," 
 she announced, " that the sooner it's all over 
 the better. So," she turned, " if you don't 
 mind waiting a minute, Temp, I'll come right 
 down to the Village with you now." 
 
 Quite ignoring the limp conditions of her 
 auditors, she turned to go up-stairs. 
 
 " I'll just get my hat." She paused in 
 thought. " And my purse," she added. 
 
 86 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 BETTINA LUNCHES ON LOTUS 
 
 Nibblers of lotus! So Bettina had always 
 thought of them, with a sort of pleasant, lan- 
 guorous envy, having no suspicion that eternal 
 lotus lunches get on one's nerves. Even the 
 Villagers themselves seldom know that what is 
 the matter with them is indigestion due to over- 
 indulging in lotus leaves. 
 
 Bettina had been eating lotus for a week, and 
 liked the taste. She had been accustomed for 
 some years to spending her energy in work, 
 and she found it just as hard, but so much more 
 interesting, to spend it in discussion. 
 
 She learned to grow madly excited over the 
 
 question of whether Kreymborg and Areus- 
 
 berg had done anything significant in vers libre 
 
 or were merely poseurs, and which was the 
 
 more hopelessly reactionary, Harriet Monroe 
 
 or Margaret Anderson. 
 
 87 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 She grew used to being taken about to messy 
 studios, and searching horrible daubs on canvas 
 not yet dry, for elusive meanings. 
 
 She played a system. She had three re- 
 marks, which she used in rotation, and if there 
 chanced to be a fourth painting or tortured 
 lump of clay to be viewed she threw her soul 
 into her eyes and stood silent, visibly moved 
 beyond words. 
 
 She was very popular in the Village. Not 
 being engaged in making masterpieces she had 
 time to be civil to those who were. And the 
 edge of hearing people argue had not yet worn 
 off for her. 
 
 She was neither cultivated enough nor impo- 
 lite enough to see through anything, which 
 made it lovely for everybody, especially Temp. 
 
 This evening they were spending, as usual, 
 in the tea-rooms of the Village, with the cup 
 that cheers and the talk that inebriates. They 
 usually circled about from one to another, hav- 
 ing a dance here, and a cup of tea there, but to- 
 night they had wandered down Christopher 
 and decided to spend the evening at twenty- 
 one. 
 
 88 
 
LUNCHES ON LOTUS 
 
 As Temp knocked at the door, and Romany 
 Marie herself in her gypsy costume admitted 
 them to the riot of color and talk, Betty gasped 
 with the surprise that a week had not dimmed. 
 
 The checker-board youth now looked inde- 
 scribably statuesque in his wrinkled corduroys, 
 with his wavy blond hair quite unsubdued, and 
 she liked being seen with him. He led her to a 
 place at a low, long table. 
 
 " I love you," he whispered with a striking 
 fervor, as he helped her out of her coat, and 
 looked glowingly into her eyes. 
 
 The phonograph was filling the tobacco- 
 laden room with a gay gypsy air. 
 
 " This is life! " thought Bettina again, with 
 a scornful memory of William Clark. 
 
 She sat pensively at the red and black table ; 
 and listening to Temp's poetic voice order- 
 ing things, she mechanically got ready her 
 purse. 
 
 "And goat's meat," said her escort, and a 
 
 little later, " Turkish coffee." She went on 
 
 listening dreamily, half to him, and half to the 
 
 murmuring groups about her. 
 
 'Atmosphere!" she said to herself ecstatie- 
 
 89 
 
 u 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 ally. "Atmosphere!' and felt that at last 
 everything had come right in her life. 
 
 She moved a purple candle a bit to one side, 
 and smiled across the red and black table to 
 Temp. 
 
 He gazed at her ardently. " Shall I read 
 you a poem? " he asked. 
 
 " Do," she assented. It is so easy to keep 
 one's husband happy in the Village. 
 
 But he had no sooner smoothed out the 
 wrinkled bit of paper from his pocket than they 
 were surrounded by a blase party of habitues 
 who were bored with each other, and forced in 
 desperation to attach themselves to any new 
 victims. 
 
 Temp eyed them with a melancholy gaze. 
 They, being poets and things themselves, would 
 give him no applause. From the uptowners 
 alone comes the Villagers' moral support. He 
 put the crumpled paper sadly back into his 
 pocket. 
 
 Marie brought viands, lovely, colorful things 
 as vivid and different as herself; and the con- 
 versation grew in volume, Bettina crying out 
 
 as excitedly as anyone. 
 
 90 
 
LUNCHES ON LOTUS 
 
 Talk! It was what they lived on. Their 
 eyes brightened, their faces glowed. Bettina 
 could not know that those who " hit the pipe " 
 of conversation are just as surely drugged as 
 the victims of commoner and more legislated- 
 against substances. She had noticed at first 
 that their actions were strange, but she hardly 
 realized that she herself was so soon showing 
 the effects of indulgence. 
 
 School teaching and such steady things 
 seemed already hazy, unreal. The drug had 
 got her. Unless she pulled up she would be as 
 incapable of getting back to normal life as the 
 other moths that gather nightly around the 
 flame of the candles of Sheridan Square. 
 
 But Bettina was not an introspective soul. 
 She had never even been psyched. 
 
 She believed, with Henley and the orthodox, 
 that she was the captain of her soul, but she had 
 never studied up on navigation. So she drifted 
 happily on, and did not realize that the Village 
 was closing round her, like a sleepy amoeba, 
 and hungrily making her a part of its amor- 
 phous self. 
 
 She only knew she was having a good time. 
 
 91 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 She had not been lazy for a long while, and she 
 particularly enjoyed the sensation. 
 
 With Temp and his friends it had long 
 ceased to be a sensation, and was a permanent 
 state. It had become a necessity to them, but 
 had lost its thrill. They enjoyed her fresh 
 young enthusiasm. 
 
 Bettina was having the slang phrases of the 
 proletariat explained to her, but she usually 
 forgot them later. She was learning more 
 about freedom. She had always known that it 
 had something to do with smocks, but hadn't 
 known exactly what. 
 
 She was finding out to-night more about the 
 class war, and class consciousness, and things 
 like that. 
 
 But she was bewildered; rather lost in the 
 tangled streets of this new paradise into which 
 they were leading her. She had always 
 thought that the people in smocks hated the 
 rich — the capitalists, she corrected herself me- 
 ticulously in her thoughts. But now it seemed 
 that they did not hate them at all. They had 
 one hate and only one: the bourgeoisie. And 
 
 that was what she was one of. It was strange. 
 
 92 
 
LUNCHES ON LOTUS 
 
 She could see why they might hate the capital- 
 ists, that was logical enough, but why, with one 
 accord, all the " thinking people of the world " 
 should turn and rend (in their hearts, at least) 
 the apparently inoffensive bourgeoisie was 
 mysterious. 
 
 She wondered what was the matter with the 
 bourgeoisie. 
 
 But she did not dare ask. She had heard 
 that if one listened long enough one would be 
 enlightened without needing to ask. But she 
 had listened a veiy long time and had not 
 found out what it was that was the matter with 
 them. She was sure Temp must know. But, 
 being one herself, she rather hated to ask 
 Temp. So she merely squeezed his hand under 
 the table. 
 
 He returned the pressure, though his 
 thoughts at the moment were with Krupatkin. 
 That is the lovely thing about Village men: 
 thev are the onlv ones who can combine their 
 business and their love-making. Their busi- 
 ness being to talk, and getting transacted 
 mostly in tea-rooms, where the groups about 
 
 the tables include earnest girls, though not too 
 
 93 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 earnest to know the most effective things to do 
 with eyes. 
 
 Greenwich Village is to the intellectual world 
 what California is to retired financiers — a play- 
 ground, a reward, a vantage ground from 
 which to pity the toiling rest of the world who 
 have not yet arrived there. 
 
 Bettina looked, with the eyes of a Villager, 
 back at her old self in amazement and scorn. 
 She wondered how people could be like that, 
 and why something wasn't done to dispose of 
 them. 
 
 How wonderful of Temp to have rescued 
 her! She slid her arm over until their shoul- 
 ders touched. 
 
 After all, why shouldn't she find out 
 now? 
 
 " But why is it the bourgeoisie we hate? " she 
 asked. 
 
 But no one answered. The discussion 
 was racing past her, leaving her dizzily be- 
 hind. 
 
 " What have they done? " she inquired con- 
 fidentially of the young man who sat on the 
 
 other side of her. 
 
 94 
 
LUNCHES ON LOTUS 
 
 He waved his hands, as if what they had 
 done were too well known to need explanation. 
 " They're such guinea-pigs ! " he added. 
 
 " IVe not a doubt of it," Bettina said. " But 
 exactly what — 
 
 j> 
 
 It was of no use. The young man was de- 
 claiming with the rest, in an instant, about 
 things which Bettina didn't know about in 
 terms which she had never heard. 
 
 She looked about at the other tables, hop- 
 ing, in desperation, to find someone like herself. 
 Not that she wanted to talk to such a person, 
 but it would be a comfort just to know if one 
 were there. 
 
 But, as far as the eye could reach, everyone 
 was talking, excitedly, madly. 
 
 " Oh, dear," said Bettina. 
 
 Finally the young man took notice of her 
 again. 
 
 " Write? " he asked. And before he could 
 ask her the list of other things, 
 
 " Oh, no," she answered hurriedly. Then, 
 
 with her new-found experience of people, 
 
 thinking it might be a prelude to a poem, she 
 
 added politely, " But I like to listen." 
 
 95 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 However, the young man's hand did not go 
 to his pocket. 
 
 He glanced toward Temp. " I dare say 
 you're kept rather busy these days? " 
 
 Guilelessly Bettina accepted this as a mere 
 attempt at being nice to her. 
 
 " Oh, yes! " she said. " We've been telling 
 each other the history of our lives, like the Tro- 
 jans, or was it Trojans? in the Iliad, or was it 
 the Odyssey? " 
 
 " Yes, I know," said the young man sym- 
 pathetically. " My mythology is like that 
 too." 
 
 They smiled, and Bettina began to feel more 
 friendly toward his political theories. 
 
 And just then someone called him from an- 
 other table, and the young man had to go. 
 Life is like that. 
 
 Bettina saw him fish helplessly for a moment 
 in a chaotic heap of wraps, pull out a coat and 
 hat, and leave with another man. She never 
 saw him again. 
 
 That was the worst of the Village, she re- 
 flected mournfully, it was just one long ball, in 
 
 which one lost one's momentary conversational 
 
 96 
 
LUNCHES ON LOTUS 
 
 partners, in the crowd. Even husbands and 
 wives, she heard. 
 
 Bettina had been looking about since she had 
 come downtown. One walked in and out of 
 the marriage state unconsciously, it seemed. 
 It wasn't so bad being married, she saw. 
 Everyone either had been, or was about to be. 
 Like seeing a snake slough his skin; she never 
 seemed able to discover anyone who was in the 
 present state of being married. Lately, that 
 is, she hadn't been able to. 
 
 Life was becoming very complicated. 
 
 97 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 FOR A TIME 
 
 The door opened again to let in an array of 
 startling color. One could always tell at a dis- 
 tance the slummer from the slummed by the 
 color they wore. Uptowners dress, as a rule, 
 rather sadly, while the Villager has a gaudy 
 taste in dyes. Whether due to Robert Ed- 
 mund Jones, or the Liberal Club masquerades, 
 color has come into its own. 
 
 "Hello, Paula!" 
 
 " Come on over! " 
 
 Their table having more lung power than the 
 others, the three newcomers crowded into the 
 scanty space on the bench beside Bettina. 
 
 There were introductions, which cleared up 
 nothing, as no one's last names were ever given, 
 and one usually mixed up the first ones any- 
 way. 
 
 The one in the orange smock seemed to be 
 
 98 
 
FOR A TIME 
 
 Paula and to write poetry and Betty gathered 
 that the one in the purple and green hand- 
 woven gown was Petra and the red one Nessa. 
 Temp himself had introduced her to Paula, 
 proudly. 
 
 Paula, sitting next Bettina, beamed at her. 
 
 " Husbands are so in the way, aren't they? " 
 she remarked cordially. " I know Bob is. I 
 couldn't get any writing done. I thought up 
 all sorts of things. One of nry friends got him 
 to act in the Provincetown Players, and re- 
 hearsals gave me a blessed series of evenings in 
 peace, but finally the plays came off, and then 
 there were no more rehearsals." Her voice 
 was aggrieved and mournful. 
 
 " Dear me," said Bettina. 
 
 Her neighbor nodded in unhappy confirma- 
 tion. " I was at my wits' end." Her face 
 brightened and she lowered her tones confiden- 
 tially: "Now I have hired Stella Palmer to 
 flirt with him. Yes. I pay her so much a 
 week. She takes him around to tea-rooms and 
 lets him read poetry to her. And you can't 
 imagine the amount of work I get done." 
 
 " Dear me," said Bettina. 
 
 99 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 She remembered now who Paula was. A 
 very well-paid magazine poet, who wrote 
 mushy verse as a job, and soulful lovely things 
 for nothing for "The Quill" and "The 
 Pagan." She had done a novel or two also, 
 and Bettina remembered Temp mentioning 
 that she was working on one now. 
 
 " The only trouble is," Paula was saying, 
 sadly, " I'm afraid he'll get bored with her be- 
 fore the last chapter's done. I'm only on the 
 third now" 
 
 Bettina was wondering helplessly exactly 
 what one was supposed to say, when she was 
 saved the trouble of answering. 
 
 A lanky man with tortoise-shell glasses, 
 which gave him a whimsical, arresting appear- 
 ance, had come in, carrying a ukelele painted 
 in village colors with a startling cat, and a sort 
 of mixed up totem pole effect. 
 
 " Good! It's Bobby Edwards! " explained 
 a Spanish-looking novelist opposite Bettina. 
 
 " He makes them out of cigar boxes," he 
 added, seeing her eyes on the cat. 
 
 " Have you ever heard Bobby Edwards 
 
 sing? " Nessa asked her. 
 
 100 
 

 FOB A TIME 
 
 " He never really says anything shocking in 
 his songs, but he always looks as if he were on 
 the verge of it. So people sit about, hoping. 
 For hours." 
 
 The room had grown silent. Hoping. 
 
 But Bobby seemed unaware of the presence 
 of anyone save the two or three cronies about 
 him. 
 
 He raised the ukelele casually. 
 
 The room caught its breath. 
 
 He laid it down again. 
 
 The room sighed sadly. 
 
 "Oh, why doesn't somebody make himl" 
 Betty was savage with desire. 
 
 " You can't make him do anything," said the 
 novelist dolefully. " He's an artist." 
 
 The hum of conversation had begun again. 
 Bettina heard bits of sentences, love-making, 
 quarrels. 
 
 " I don't really love him," Petra was tell- 
 ing Nessa, reflectively. " But if I go to 
 a play with him, I would much rather it 
 would be one with a scene played in the 
 dark." 
 
 Then their amateur psychology was blotted 
 
 101 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 out by the novelist's loud experience with thiev- 
 ing editors. 
 
 " Why don't you come down here to live? " 
 one man with ruffled, poetic hair was asking 
 another. 
 
 " We'd like to. We've a place on the Drive. 
 We can't afford to live in the Village." 
 
 Then she lost that in the soft murmur of a 
 conversation behind her: 
 
 " She used to be married to him, didn't she? 
 I should think she'd be embarrassed at meeting 
 him." 
 
 " Oh, no. One really is not expected to re- 
 member farther back than the second last." 
 
 Paula had overheard also. The two looked 
 at each other. 
 
 " Oh, yes," answered Paula composedly. 
 
 " You see," she went on, " there's no point 
 in not being frank down here. Most of us 
 women write or something. We don't need to 
 attract men. But the ordinary girl in middle 
 class surroundings must. Therefore her 
 speech must be reserved, whether she feels that 
 way or not. Men are so attracted by a woman's 
 innocence." 
 
 102 
 
FOB A TIME 
 
 She was silent a moment. " Still," she rumi- 
 nated, " think of the leagues and leagues of in- 
 nocence of the old maids of the world. And 
 none of them seem to be charmed with that. — 
 Strange, isn't it? " 
 
 Bettina admitted that it was strange. 
 
 " Odd about men, anyway. They don't real- 
 ize that they're not the only ones who are aware 
 of facts. They seem never to remember that 
 it was Eve who nibbled at the apple first. In 
 fact, they take the ground that no real lady 
 knows what grows on apple trees." She sipped 
 her coffee musingly. "And we never unde- 
 ceive them, the dears." 
 
 Bettina had forgotten to listen to the more 
 general conversations at the table. 
 
 Paula went on, after dexterously appropri- 
 ating an extra cup of coffee from the area of 
 someone who was far too interested in gesticu- 
 lating his views on the drama. 
 
 " They like," she said, " as a great treat to 
 show us bits. ' 
 
 " I know a girl," she remembered, " awfully 
 
 clever girl. She had done settlement work 
 
 and gone into the most awful places eight hours 
 
 103 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 a day every day, and she loved to forget all 
 about it Saturday night. There was a most 
 formal and proper man, paying her attention. 
 He asked her to go out with him one Saturday, 
 and, as a great favor, and as part of showing 
 her New York, he took her slumming." 
 
 She lighted another cigarette appropriated 
 from a silver case on the nearest table. 
 The dears," she said. 
 
 <( 
 
 104 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 AND FINDS IT NOT SO FILLING AS IT MIGHT BE 
 
 " Go on," said Bettina. 
 
 Paula appeared mildly amused. 
 
 " I do, don't I? " she confessed, in her caress- 
 ing contralto, which rather " got " Bettina. 
 " I oughtn't, really. No writer should talk. 
 It's downright waste." 
 
 Betty was somewhat shocked at this selfish- 
 ness, which she had uncovered in Temp as well. 
 Dear Temp, so naively unconscious of being 
 anything but noble! Bettina caught herself 
 already thinking in Paula's jargon. She was 
 too darned adaptable, that was what was the 
 matter with her, she told herself. 
 
 Paula had already forgotten what they had 
 been chatting about. She looked about the 
 room, with dreamy satiric eyes. 
 
 " Queer thing, Life," she said. " We say 
 
 it's a merry-go-round. And the uplift crowd 
 
 105 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 think it's a sort of escalator; you just stand on 
 a step and do nothing, and up you go, up, up, 
 up ! Have a cigarette? " 
 
 Betty blushed. " I never learned." 
 
 " How clever of you. You know, it's not 
 such a bad card to play, even here. White 
 dress and blue sash. All that sort of thing." 
 
 Bettina protested, and blushed even harder. 
 
 " Not bad," commented Paula again, with 
 an appraising glance at the blush. " You'll 
 find it very useful. A weapon in need. As 
 for myself, I've nothing but my arresting 
 frankness. Oh yes, if you carry a defect far 
 enough, it becomes a charm." 
 
 " What are you two so interested in? " asked 
 Temp, bending over to catch a word. 
 
 " Men. What else? " said Paula, and calmly 
 shoved him back into the whirlpool of the 
 noisier discussion. 
 
 Comfortably on the shore of it, she smiled at 
 Betty, her smile merging itself into a greeting 
 to a newly arrived, severely tailored woman, 
 with a capable face. 
 
 " Who is she? " asked Betty. 
 
 " Can't think of her name. She's very ener- 
 
 106 
 
NOT SO FILLING 
 
 getic," answered Paula, stirring her coffee. 
 " She used to want a vote; wants something 
 else now, I believe." 
 
 Betty looked interestedly about her. 
 
 "Everyone's like someone, aren't they?" 
 she commented ungrammatically. 
 
 " What do you mean? " asked Paula idly, 
 her eyes ticketing the assembly. 
 
 But Bettina was only reflecting to herself 
 that Paula was Nadine all over, and that the 
 girl named Petra was exactly like Ruth, shy to 
 look at, but a grim pursuer, nevertheless. 
 
 Now Paula wasn't, or Nadine. They didn't 
 have to be. They were so distinctly not in 
 need of men that they were certain never to be 
 without. 
 
 Nessa, Betty gathered, was married, but it 
 seemed to make no appreciable difference to 
 her admirers, and certainly not to Nessa. 
 
 " I'm thinking a little about being married," 
 Petra was saying to Nessa. " I should so like 
 to be eternally adored." 
 
 Paula turned. " I thought you were think- 
 ing of getting married? " she remarked in her 
 
 blase voice, too tired for irony. 
 
 107 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " Oh, of course, not properly married," 
 Petra hastened to assure her. 
 
 " What do you mean by properly married? 
 A ceremony? " 
 
 " Oh, no! Washing dishes." 
 
 " But I can't find anyone interesting 
 enough," she went on after a moment. 
 
 " One doesn't," answered Nessa. " One 
 simply takes the most interesting available. I 
 did. Mother was shocked when I told her so. 
 She says one doesn't choose one's most interest- 
 ing suitor. She says it's not decent. But I'll 
 wager she did it. I've noticed that parents 
 describe as not decent all the things they did 
 and don't want us to find out." 
 
 Bettina heard a good deal about Paula's 
 marriage then, and her husband. It seemed 
 that they fell in love at sight and were almost 
 as immediately married. 
 
 And so they came to the Village, where no- 
 body lives happily ever after ; where, in fact, it 
 would be looked upon as the worst sort of faux 
 pas, not to speak of scandal, for anybody to 
 live happily six months or a year after, let alone 
 
 forever. 
 
 108 
 
NOT SO FILLING 
 
 Happiness is stagnation, the Villagers be- 
 lieve, to say nothing of being an impossibility 
 anyway. 
 
 After Paula's confidences and comments 
 came Nessa's. 
 
 Poor Bettina, gravely trying to find her way 
 about in the marshes and morasses of marriage, 
 and eternally stepping on squashy corpses of 
 those who had floundered on before her! 
 
 Betty's attention was deflected for a moment 
 by something Temp was saying, but, as their 
 discussion was of art or politics or something 
 vague and beautiful, she soon came back to the 
 girls' more practical one. 
 
 " Country boys and girls marry young," 
 Petra asserted. 
 
 " Yes," Nessa's tone was indulgent, " but 
 then in town we have the theatre and such 
 things." 
 
 " I imagine," added Paula, " that now since 
 motion pictures are penetrating everywhere, 
 there will be a change in the statistics in the 
 country. One can get almost as many thrills 
 from the movies as from being married." 
 
 "Paula, how can you say such things?" 
 
 109 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 Petra's outraged expression was for all the 
 world like Ruth's, Betty thought. 
 
 " Why not? Which are you defending? 
 Marriage or the movies? " 
 
 "Are you bored, Hon? " asked Temp, ten- 
 derly. His blue eyes still looked innumerable 
 postscripts to his most casual sentence. 
 
 At their glance Betty always lost her head. 
 It was so unlike the way persons looked at one 
 another above Fourteenth Street. There was 
 no romance from Fifteenth up. She wondered 
 how people at, say, Forty-seventh, sustained 
 life. 
 
 " I'm having a lovely time," she told 
 him. 
 
 " I could never get tired of tea-rooms! " she 
 added fervently and honestly. 
 
 " I missed the Village when I was on my trip 
 last summer," contributed Petra, sighing in 
 synipathy. " There isn't anything like this 
 out West." 
 
 " No," asserted Nessa. " But then, people 
 
 are so much more wholesome in the West, don't 
 
 you think? And then, of course, there are 
 
 enough men to go round out there." 
 
 110 
 
NOT SO FILLING 
 
 " But they really are," Petra asserted, ear- 
 nestly supporting the wholesome theory. 
 
 " It must have something to do with the 
 longitude — or is it latitude? It's so long since 
 I had botany. Or is it geology? " 
 
 Bettina gave a fleeting thought to the van- 
 ished young man who had sympathized with 
 her mythology. 
 
 How good it was to have time to be inane, 
 she reflected, and smiled contentedly. 
 
 Temp answered her smile. 
 
 "Glad? "he queried. 
 
 "Awfully!" said Bettina. 
 
 Temp melted with tenderness. " I adore 
 you! " he whispered ardently, then added, "A 
 dollar sixty." For everybody was paying up, 
 and Betty had made a dash for the menu to 
 figure out theirs. 
 
 She picked up her velvet bag and found the 
 coin purse. 
 
 Something about paying for Temp's food 
 
 was beginning to get on her nerves. But she 
 
 reproached herself for her unworthy feeling. 
 
 " What is money, anyway? " she asked herself 
 
 scornfully ; "it's not worth thinking of," she 
 
 111 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 answered. " Nothing matters but love, noth- 
 ing! " she said to herself. And with a tender 
 smile at Temp, she paid the bill. 
 
 112 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 BETTINA DISCOVERS THE REVOLUTION 
 
 Though it was undoubtedly convenient for 
 picnicking to old-timers like Temp and his 
 friends, Bettina found Parnassus a very slip- 
 pery place for one not used to it. The heights 
 made her dizzy. 
 
 But it was all for the Revolution. She had 
 progressed as far as the Revolution now. Not 
 that she understood exactly what it was for, 
 but she knew that it must be all right, or Temp 
 would not have approved it. 
 
 As nearly as she could make out, every time 
 a poet got a rejection slip he became more cer- 
 tain that the existing order of things must be 
 destroyed. If he sold enough he became a 
 bourgeois, and deserted the cause. There 
 were many such traitors. Their friends re- 
 membered sadly their splendid youth, when 
 they had been full of enthusiasm for the cause 
 of humanity, before they had sold their souls. 
 
 ii3 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 The best prices for souls, it seemed, were 
 paid by William Randolph Hearst, but The 
 Ladies' Home Journal and Century got some. 
 
 Temp seemed in no danger of selling his 
 soul, owing to the fact that the editors had so 
 much material on hand. Bettina breathed 
 deep sighs of relief. She would hate to have 
 had the people that are in tea-rooms calling 
 Temp a traitor; or confiding to each other un- 
 der their breaths that he had no civic conscious- 
 ness. 
 
 Bettina had put on class hatred as she put 
 on smocks, not that either was especially be- 
 coming to her, but they served to give pleasure 
 to Temp, and make her look like the people 
 about her. 
 
 Of the two, she preferred the smocks. 
 
 And it was not long before she began rather 
 to enjoy both. They made her feel so im- 
 mensely superior to William Clark and the 
 people with whom she had once spent her 
 days. 
 
 If there were little things about this paradise 
 
 that vaguely disturbed her, she loyally put 
 
 them from her mind, as unworthy thoughts. 
 
 114 
 
THE REVOLUTION 
 
 Still, as the days went by, she found that she 
 was growing increasingly addicted to un- 
 worthy thoughts. At which discovery, of 
 course, she redoubled her vigilance. 
 
 Bettina was trying her best to be a radical 
 and have a message. She could not yet be said 
 to have succeeded, but she believed that with 
 diligence, she would in time. 
 
 If her money held out, that is. She had no- 
 ticed with alarm that the price of hers and 
 Temp's meals, not to mention the violets he 
 bought her, and their other necessary expenses, 
 were eating like acid into her small savings. 
 At this rate, they would soon have nothing left 
 — and then? Disaster. Providing Temp had 
 not managed to sell his soul in the meantime to 
 any appreciable extent. She had little fear of 
 his doing so. She had learned now about 
 magazines. They never bought real poetry, 
 anything original or big. It was safer to print 
 the rubber-stamp type of pretty verse, written 
 by its regular standbys, as a rule. Real poets 
 were not published in these days. 
 
 She had wondered a little why Temp and his 
 
 friends continued writing poetry under such 
 
 115 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 conditions, until she had asked outright. It 
 was the inner consciousness. 
 
 At the same time, she could not help being a 
 bit anxious about the expenses. She dared not 
 mention it to Temp. It would have broken his 
 writing mood for the day. 
 
 And besides, their love was such a perfect 
 thing, an idyl of beauty. How could financial 
 affairs have any kinship with a thing of the 
 spirit? So she did all the worrying herself. 
 She had a premonition that Temp was not very 
 good at worrying anyway. 
 
 He lived on the heights. He was a closer 
 follower of Beauty, a more exalted lover of Art 
 than she had ever known existed. It was her 
 part to shelter him from ugliness. 
 
 Besides, she loved to. He was so adorable. 
 He so seriously believed her perfect. William 
 Clark had seen her faults with an indulgent 
 eye, but Temp did not see them at all. He 
 linked her with the beautiful things of all ages. 
 
 It was wonderful to be wooed by a poet. 
 He was unpractical, and rather lazy, and un- 
 doubtedly conceited, but he could, not only 
 
 once, but steadily, day by day, transport her 
 
 il6* 
 
THE REVOLUTION 
 
 past all the boundaries of every-day, and give 
 her license to live in a land of romance. And, 
 after all, wasn't that the miracle that she had 
 all her life before watched for in vain? 
 
 So Betty was happy. 
 
 And Temp was happy too. To tell the 
 truth, it was not Betty's money, but Betty's 
 charm and general dearness that made him so 
 deeply contented. He really did not think of 
 the money. 
 
 That was the trouble. 
 
 It is not the men who deliberately scheme to 
 get control of their wives' money, but those who 
 would scorn to touch it, if they thought of it, 
 but are so lofty-minded that they never think 
 of it at all, but believe vaguely that money 
 drops from the sky, that make women un- 
 happy. 
 
 Temp was a lineal descendent of Rip Van 
 Winkle, beloved of children and dogs, the soul 
 of good nature, but an exasperation to his wife, 
 except that Betty, dear soul, was too admiring 
 and too much in love to be exasperated. 
 
 As yet. 
 
 117 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 BETTINA PAYS THE BILLS 
 
 Bettina was growing a little tired of the 
 Revolution. Of course she would not have 
 admitted it. But it was disconcerting to be 
 dancing happily at the Radical Club with a 
 beautiful, boyish-looking poet who had evi- 
 dently been told he resembled Rupert Brooke, 
 and to find, after admiring his dreamy profile, 
 that he hoped in a few months to be going 
 about with a rifle, killing bourgeoisie. Par- 
 ticularly if one were not quite certain yet 
 whether one were open to attack or were re- 
 garded as belonging to the attacking party. 
 
 Bettina's girl friends, in her new environ- 
 ment, were extremely intense. Russian girls, 
 very dumpy and brave, who lived for art and 
 the revolution. They had to, really, usually 
 having no looks to spare. Bettina, some way, 
 
 did not share the prevailing admiration for 
 
 118 
 
PAYS THE BILLS 
 
 them, although she made a valiant effort. 
 Then there were the pseudo-Russian type, who 
 had gone in for socialism, she was sure, because 
 it afforded such an excellent opportunity for 
 meeting young men. Girls who would have 
 been wall-flowers in any other environment 
 could shout their way into acquaintance with 
 any number of members of a local. 
 
 Even beneath the play spirit, Betty found, 
 lurked, like the extremely slippery brand of ice 
 beneath the soil of a glacier, that basic revolu- 
 tion. She felt as if she had gone to live in a 
 community of Adventists, who were momen- 
 tarily expecting the second coming. 
 
 Being of a polite disposition, she expected it 
 too, but, at the same time, if it had suddenly 
 happened, she would have been considerably 
 startled. 
 
 There were a good many things she would 
 have liked to know about it. Temp, when ap- 
 proached, was rather vague. The revolution 
 was clearly a necessity to any decent person, 
 like washing behind the ears. 
 
 All party matters were a trifle vague. Of 
 course Bettina understood very clearly about 
 
 119 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 the Right and Left wings, though she usually 
 had to stop and think before she could remem- 
 ber which was which. 
 
 But, though she was not always as enthusi- 
 astic as she might have been about the revolu- 
 tion, she liked the revolutionists tremendously. 
 She wondered why it was that the people on 
 the wrong side were always so much more in- 
 teresting than the good ones. 
 
 William Clark seemed to her now a deadly 
 dull person. It would never have occurred to 
 him to blow up anybody. 
 
 But these people were so childlike, so clearly 
 and simply living in that renaissance of won- 
 der, which Theodore Watts-Dunton, or some- 
 one, once started. 
 
 She was thinking of this as she looked about, 
 at the Villagers, in a highly colored dancing 
 den. She and Temp sat in a black recess at a 
 green table. Temp, with a blank, rapt look, 
 was making a poem. Betty was not particu- 
 larly excited about it. She had found that 
 Temp's poems turned out to be pretty much all 
 alike. Which made it so simple a matter to 
 
 praise them. One had only to say the same 
 
 120 
 
PAYS THE BILLS 
 
 thing over again. She had overheard one of 
 Temp's poet friends say the formula once, so 
 she knew it was correct. 
 
 And Betty so wanted to be correct. She 
 had learned the truth that there is no time when 
 it is so important to use the correct fork as 
 when banqueting on nectar and ambrosia with 
 the immortals. 
 
 Temp came momentarily out of his trance. 
 She was looking unusually pretty. 
 
 "A penny for your thoughts," he bantered. 
 
 She looked at him caressingly. " Dear 
 Temp, I'd have to supply the penny." 
 
 But he did not hear. He had gone back into 
 the trance. 
 
 Betty was shocked at herself. How could 
 she have been so crude? She was remorseful. 
 Of course she shouldn't have blurted out a 
 thing like that. It wasn't done. She knew 
 very well that one told the truth fearlessly 
 about the other classes, but never about one's 
 own. And she hadn't really meant what she 
 said. What was money, anyway? 
 
 " Dance? " asked someone, leaning grace- 
 fully over the black partition. 
 
 121 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 "Oh!" said Bettina, and sprang up, eyes 
 alight. Temp, his attention centered on the 
 Muse, did not see her go. But every girl south 
 of Fourteenth Street has to submit to being 
 , second to her rival, the Muse, in her cavalier's 
 eyes, and it is just as well to be philosophical 
 about it. 
 
 " How do you like the Village by this time? ,: 
 asked her partner, swinging her dexterously 
 past a fat shimmer. 
 
 "Oh, I love it!" 
 
 " Like the people here, do you? " 
 
 " Oh, aren't they wonderful ! " 
 
 He apologized to an irate lady who was see- 
 ing America first, and smiled pleasantly at his 
 flattering partner. 
 
 " Why isn't everybody like the people here?" 
 asked Betty enthusiastically. 
 
 " I'm glad you like the bunch." 
 
 " They're all so good to me. I can't think 
 why." 
 
 Perhaps she might have thought why a few 
 seconds later, but Betty was not good at put- 
 ting two and two together. Besides being far 
 
 too polite. 
 
 122 
 
PAYS THE BILLS 
 
 When the music stopped, he caught at her 
 arm. "Don't go back yet! You're — ah — 
 such a good dancer." 
 
 " Oh," said Betty, overcome. She knew 
 that she was the sort of dancer who, though 
 she'd never been told she was bad, would have 
 been told so if she'd had brothers. 
 
 " I want awfully to have this next with you. 
 I'll be awfully disappointed " 
 
 She looked at Temp. The Muse was still at 
 home to him, she saw. 
 
 "Do!" 
 
 " Well." 
 
 The music crashed into the mere buzz of talk 
 and demolished it utterly. 
 
 " Yes, I'd rather dance with you than any- 
 one here," he said. 
 
 "Really?" She looked about. All the 
 other girls were real Villagers, hair, soul, and 
 smock. Except, of course, the shimmers who, 
 in their attempt to get acquainted with the Vil- 
 lage, of course danced with other shimmers. 
 
 "Ah — I wondered if you could lend me a ten 
 this week? " inquired her partner uninterest- 
 edly. 
 
 123 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " I beg your pardon." 
 
 " Thought you wouldn't mind." He swept 
 her gracefully into a lovely swing and pressed 
 her hand accidentally. 
 Why — why 
 
 u TTtri l » 
 
 " Awfully good of you," he said gratefully. 
 " I'll come over for it in a minute." 
 
 After he took her back to Temp, she rather 
 bewilderedly got her purse and found a bill. 
 Whether it was she or her late partner found 
 the opportunity to so adroitly change its own- 
 ership she was not certain. But there was noth- 
 ing embarrassing about the ceremony. She had 
 always vaguely thought it would be embar- 
 rassing for a man to borrow money from a 
 woman. She had lent a good deal, off and on, 
 to the dumpy girls in smocks, but that was dif- 
 ferent. Or was it? She felt uncertain. She 
 might ask Temp. But she rather hesitated to 
 ask Temp about this. One didn't mention 
 money to poets. And one saw that it was al- 
 ways there so that they did not need to mention 
 it either. 
 
 He had read his poem and had her praise, 
 and they had danced a waltz together. 
 
 124 
 
PAYS THE BILLS 
 
 Then she had danced with a pleasant 
 youth or two and heard things about the 
 one-act play, and the decay of the sonnet- 
 form. 
 
 " Have a cup of coffee with me, Miss 
 Betty? " asked a melancholy novelist, who, she 
 gathered, had not written one yet. 
 
 She was startled. But if there were, in her 
 present acquaintance, one man willing to pay 
 for what she ate or drank, she would not dis- 
 courage him. 
 
 " I'd love to," she glowed, and they sought 
 another recess with its green table. 
 
 " How's the world treating you? " he asked, 
 kindly, after they were served. 
 
 She smiled happily. 
 
 " Glad to hear it," he answered. " I've been 
 having a rotten time." 
 
 " I'm so sorry." 
 
 " Oh, it's only temporary. Only temporary. 
 
 That's why I thought you'd not mind seeing 
 
 me through, perhaps." 
 
 Seeing you through? " 
 
 You're the only one of us in a position to 
 
 be a patron of the arts," he laughed. 
 
 125 
 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " One of us! " she glowed at the compliment 
 in this. 
 
 " Oh — why " Her charming sympathy 
 
 had taken the form of twenty-five dollars by 
 the time their tete-a-tete was over. 
 
 She was somewhat bewildered, but fright- 
 fully pleased at the tribute of his trust in her. 
 Temp's friends had so hospitably accepted her 
 and made her one of themselves. 
 
 She and Temp danced the next few dances, 
 and then decided to go across the street to have 
 a cup of tea and see who was there. He held 
 her coat for her in his own graceful, grateful 
 way, and she smiled at him as she always 
 did. He was closing the door behind them 
 as they were accosted by a couple coming 
 in. 
 
 " Hello, Temp ! 'Lo, Betty ! " 
 
 They shook hands all round. Then as Temp 
 and the girl seemed to be talking animatedly, 
 the man drew her aside. 
 
 " Betty, you're a good sport. I've brought 
 
 Nina here, and I've not a cent in my pockets. 
 
 You know her; she's not a good fellow like you 
 
 and most of the girls. I wouldn't have her 
 
 126 
 
PAYS THE BILLS 
 
 guess for anything. Slip me a dollar, won't 
 you? Sh — Don't let them see." 
 
 Bettina had no time to think. 
 
 " You're the real thing, Betty. Do the same 
 for you, some day. Ta-ta! " 
 
 Bettina reflected soberly that at this rate he 
 would have to, but she stifled that selfish 
 thought. What was a dollar? And what fun 
 it was to be able to do something for these mag- 
 nificent people ! Their gratitude was pleasant. 
 It was becoming a necessity to her. But what 
 should she do when her money was gone? 
 
 " Let's dance and dance and dance," she 
 cried feverishly, as they entered and met the 
 strains of a new phonograph and the smocks of 
 a new crowd. " I don't want to think! " 
 
 And they did, breathlessly, until a half dozen 
 revelers attached them to their train and took 
 them over to get ham sandwiches at a villain- 
 ously untidy restaurant on Sixth Avenue. 
 
 As they walked up Sixth, Temp pointed to 
 the window of a haberdashery. 
 
 " I've had my eye on that silk shirt all week, 
 said he. " Just my color, isn't it? " 
 
 " Yes, it is." 
 
 127 
 
 » 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " Well, how about it? " said he gaily. 
 " How's the exchequer? Shall we come by to- 
 morrow? " 
 
 They had dropped behind. The others were 
 not noticing. 
 
 " Yes. Oh, yes. Only let's not talk about 
 it," answered Bettina desperately. " Let's 
 forget about money." 
 
 " Let's," assented Temp, and stopping a 
 moment before they went on with the others, 
 caught her bare hands in his, and bent his 
 lovely head and kissed them with respectful 
 adoration. 
 
 And Bettina forgot about money. 
 
 128 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE OVERHEAD ON PARNASSUS 
 
 " How very exciting to marry a radical! " 
 Bettina had once breathed fervently. She still 
 found radicals gloriously exciting. She adored 
 them, as she adored orchids. But that wasn't 
 their only resemblance to orchids, she found. 
 They, too, were expensive; really, she was be- 
 ginning to fear, beyond the purse of a not too 
 provident erstwhile school teacher. 
 
 It was quite all right to be cautious about 
 orchids. But to think of one's friends in terms 
 of money was a mercenary, selfish thing. Bet- 
 tina blushed when she found herself doing it, 
 and always stopped. 
 
 Which was the reason, perhaps, for the fact 
 
 that, as the end of the month drew near, so too 
 
 approached the end of her savings account. 
 
 But the race was unequal, or Bettina was really 
 
 not so careful as she might have been, for, 
 
 129 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 finally, quite a week before the month of pro- 
 bation was up, she found she had spent every 
 cent she owned in the world. 
 
 Except three. These she slipped into a Sal- 
 vation Army box, from some obscure motive of 
 turning to good works at the last. 
 
 When he found their source of income 
 stopped, Temp did not blame her. Still, it 
 was unfortunate, as he was in the midst of read- 
 ing up on the Elizabethan dramatists and im- 
 bibing into his spirit something of the atmos- 
 phere of their times. And while imbibing 
 atmosphere one really should not be jarred. 
 
 Bettina, who was to have been his inspira- 
 tion, had proved the means of bringing him 
 unpleasantly to earth. She felt her failure 
 keenly. 
 
 She did her best. She went to such of her 
 debtors as were not sufficiently psychologists to 
 read her need in her eye, and escape ; and asked 
 them if they could lend her a dollar or two. 
 They were ever so pleasant about it. 
 
 Like editors, they softened their regrets in 
 
 the most thoughtful way. 
 
 Temp and Betty were able to obtain a few 
 
 130 
 
THE OVERHEAD 
 
 meals on credit, by going to a different place 
 each time. 
 
 Temp said he understood now for the first 
 time why there were so many eating places in 
 the Village. But obviously this could not last. 
 
 Also they discovered, about the second day 
 of their strategy, that the proprietors must 
 know each other, and, odious thought, be low 
 enough to gossip about their friends. 
 
 The third day they had no breakfast at all. 
 One's brain was really clearer for it, Temp 
 said. 
 
 Betty, for her part, found hers quite hide- 
 ously clear. 
 
 And anyway, they had a perfectly good invi- 
 tation to luncheon. It was from two brightly 
 interested elderly ladies whom they had once 
 detested. But it is remarkable what good 
 qualities are sometimes hidden beneath un- 
 promising exteriors. So they had accepted. 
 
 But during the forenoon, as Temp was get- 
 ting on famously in his grafting of atmosphere, 
 a knock introduced a kindly neighbor. 
 
 " 'Phone message for you." 
 
 It was from their elderly hostesses. 
 
 131 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " She said, would you mind coming next 
 Thursday instead. She said she'd be so glad 
 to know it didn't make any difference to you." 
 
 " I'd be glad to know it didn't make any dif- 
 ference to us, too," said Temp, bitterly, after 
 the neighbor had gone. 
 
 But what should they do? Betty stared at 
 him speechless. 
 
 He stared back. " Do you know," he whis- 
 pered hoarsely, " I hadn't noticed it before, but 
 I'm hungry." 
 
 She received his remark in silence. She 
 hadn't noticed it before, either, but now, 
 strangely, so was she. Then she rose and 
 laughed. 
 
 " We're imagining it," she said. " Go on 
 reading, Temp. You'll probably not feel it 
 then. Would you like to read me a poem? ' 
 It was her greatest sacrifice. But this time it 
 did not help. 
 
 Temp took a melancholy survey of the past 
 few months. He knew that he had borrowed 
 all that he ever would be able to of his ac- 
 quaintances. Bettina had been his last chance. 
 
 Although he did not think of her that way. 
 
 132 
 
THE OVERHEAD 
 
 He thought of her as a charming and perfect 
 creature. 
 
 He so much preferred to think of beauty 
 than of sordid things. 
 
 He turned to Betty, half unconsciously hop- 
 ing that she might lead his mind gently away. 
 
 But Bettina seemed to be busy. 
 
 There was no escape from harassing 
 thoughts. For perhaps the first time in his 
 life, Temp was alone with reality. 
 
 And in such a tete-a-tete, his powers of rep- 
 artee were decidedly feeble. 
 
 133 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 TEMP BUYS A TON OF COAL 
 
 There is a great gulf fixed between those 
 who work and those who talk for a living. 
 
 It is fixed by the scorn of those who talk. 
 
 They are so much cleverer. Dimly Bettina 
 had divined that, from above Fourteenth. 
 Now she reveled in it. It was so wonderful 
 to be allowed to listen. 
 
 And she was allowed to listen. Always. 
 No one ever heard her through a sentence. But 
 why should they? She was not clever. It 
 was Temp who was that. But he had not been 
 clever enough to think out a way to escape the 
 boredom of not eating. He had been left 
 alone with despair. 
 
 But in the Village one does not stay long 
 
 alone in despair. One's friends drop into 
 
 one's studio at all hours to talk about editors. 
 
 Singly, or twos, or threes, or often, hordes. 
 
 Hordes are better, for then one does not have 
 
 134 
 
A TON OF COAL 
 
 to join in the conversation at all. Like mothers 
 who have five or six children, one finds that 
 they amuse each other, and leave one free to 
 work in peace. 
 
 Artists are undisturbed by the friendly prac- 
 tice, for they can go on painting precisely as 
 well. As for poets, they are better off still, 
 for, when bothered for an extra line, a rhyme 
 or a metaphor, they have only to ask the com- 
 pany. 
 
 And, as on that day, so on succeeding ones, 
 their friends had dropped in, drifting pleas- 
 antly away again about meal-time, and leaving 
 the querulous Temp to the now somewhat 
 thoughtful Bettina. 
 
 And so the days went slowly by. Their de- 
 vices were devious. Sometimes they were able 
 to borrow the price of a meal, and sometimes 
 not. They had always run bills. Betty had 
 been able to pay them before. This time she 
 could not. And to make matters worse, these 
 bills began now to come in. 
 
 About the fourth day of the lean years, there 
 was a ring at the door. It presaged an ex- 
 pressman who grimly proposed to deliver a ton 
 
 135 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 of coal. Temp had bought it when they were 
 prosperous, in a spasmodic effort to be provi- 
 dent and far-seeing, as the price of coal was 
 about to advance. Bettina had paid for it, and 
 both had promptly forgotten about it. 
 
 But now the truly alarming question, consid- 
 ering the size of the apartment, arose. Where 
 should they store it? 
 
 " Put it in the bath tub," suggested Nessa in 
 her practical way. She had just dropped in, 
 along with two or three others who seemed, as 
 usual, to have nothing particular to do, and 
 who loved to do it in company. " Put it in the 
 bath tub, of course," she repeated impa- 
 tiently. 
 
 " But that's just what the whole discussion's 
 been about," explained Temp. " We haven't 
 any bath tub." 
 
 " Here, here ! " interrupted the booming 
 voice of the expressman, " I can't wait all clay. 
 Where do you want this coal? " 
 
 " Well," answered Temp, " as a matter of 
 fact, my dear sir, we don't want it at all, but if 
 you insist — 
 
 insist " 
 
 None of your cheek. If you don't look 
 
 136 
 
A TON OF COAL 
 
 alive, I'll put it in the middle of the floor." He 
 turned from them to the stairs. " Jake! " 
 
 " Oh, no," implored Bettina, " don't do 
 that ! ' She turned wide, frightened eyes upon 
 the accomplice of Jake. 
 
 Then she adopted more practical methods. 
 " Nessa, get off that trunk. Do you mind? 
 Temp, drag that other one here. Both of you 
 help me take the things out." And in a few 
 moments most of the coal was stored, while the 
 remainder of it and Bettina's party dresses 
 filled the studio. 
 
 Thus one problem was solved, but every 
 time they solved a problem it seemed only to 
 give place to a score of others. Usually they 
 did not solve them. They only shoved them in 
 on top of each other like Bluebeard's wives, on 
 the theory that one might as well have twenty 
 skeletons in the closet as one. 
 
 But problems did not annoy Temp, except 
 momentarily. His was a mind trained for so 
 long to contemplate beauty that now it turned 
 away automatically from contemplating any- 
 thing else. 
 
 As for Bettina, she could not plan and ar- 
 
 137 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 range, and at the same time be a cheery, bright 
 companion, and she considered it her duty to 
 Art to keep Temp happy. It was only when 
 he was happy that he was able to do his best 
 work. 
 
 Bettina had an uneasy presentiment that 
 somewhere in the future was awaiting a terrible 
 crash, but she tried not to think of it, and, any- 
 way, she always had liked to dance. Why 
 should one spoil one's good times with gloomy 
 forebodings? So she just put the bills un- 
 opened into Temp's waste-paper basket with 
 all the discarded first drafts of his poems, and 
 he and she were very happy. 
 
 138 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 MUST THERE ALWAYS BE CAUSES? 
 
 The day after Temp's coal was delivered 
 they had more callers than usual. The girls 
 seemed by some fatality to chance to sit in the 
 places where there was the most coal, and 
 smudge their light georgette dresses lamen- 
 tably, while the men seemed to get tangled 
 hopelessly in the masses of party dresses hang- 
 ing fluffily from chandeliers, hooks, chairs and 
 screens. It was not exactly a successful party. 
 
 It distressed Betty's hospitable soul not to 
 be able to offer anyone anything to eat, but she 
 knew that if they once got really interested in 
 a conversation, no one would probably know 
 the difference. 
 
 Therefore she relaxed with relief when she 
 heard the talk take a political turn. She had 
 hoped for that or free verse, either one. 
 
 She smiled across at Temp. 
 
 He beamed at her. 
 
 139 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 Their guests were having a good time now. 
 They were all talking at once. But this was 
 rather disastrous to Betty's wardrobe, because 
 the more thoroughly interesting the discussion 
 became, the more the talkers became enmeshed 
 in the dangling sashes and ribbons of her party 
 dresses, and the more unseeingly and rudely 
 they cast off the trammeling bonds. There 
 were sounds about the room of rips and tears, 
 and Bettina had a disturbed moment when she 
 reflected upon what an easy missile loose coal 
 would prove to people who found themselves 
 seriously disagreeing with one another. 
 
 Perhaps it was these uneasy thoughts which 
 made it impossible for her to feel the usual 
 glamour which talk of these brilliant people 
 produced. She was like a late-coming specta- 
 tor at a display of Hindu magic, who has by an 
 oversight not been hypnotized. 
 
 She could not see what these people saw. 
 
 She had seen it before, but not this time. She 
 
 was somewhat dismayed. She listened closely, 
 
 more ready to be convinced than ever. But the 
 
 miracle did not work. 
 
 Doubt had entered, like the snake in the gar- 
 
 140 
 
MUST THERE BE CAUSES? 
 
 den, and she was no longer content with the 
 Eden of her new political beliefs. 
 
 Her eyes went timidly to Temp for help, but 
 Temp was talking too. How disappointed he 
 would be in her ! 
 
 But suddenly she didn't care. Suddenly 
 she knew she was tired, tired, tired of the Revo- 
 lution. She knew the bitter truth about her- 
 self. She had never really cared about the 
 Right and Left wings. 
 
 Rettina mixed all things radical in one 
 amicable heap in her mind. The cults that 
 fought each other most bitterly seemed to her 
 the same thing. But in that she was like most 
 other people. 
 
 She sat stricken while the talk went soar- 
 ingly on. Temp's eyes were starry, his face 
 was that of the statue of a Greek god suddenly 
 come alive, and so alive ! Talking always was 
 becoming to Temp. 
 
 He cared tremendously about what they 
 were saying. Bettina had cared, too, yester- 
 day. But to-day she did not. And no, she 
 hadn't, really, yesterday. It was just because 
 
 it had been different that she thought it won- 
 
 141 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 derful. It was just because William Clark 
 and the great mass of middle-class humanity 
 who had never been below Fourteenth, thought 
 these doctrines incendiary and dreadful that 
 she had been fascinated by them. 
 
 But why wasn't she fascinated now? As 
 she sat there she tried desperately to be, but she 
 couldn't. She was tired of the special brand 
 of slang that went with it. She felt that if she 
 heard the words " syndicalism," " capitalistic 
 press," " exploited," " revolution," once more, 
 she should scream. 
 
 And, really, there was not room to scream, 
 in the Village. 
 
 She looked at Temp's nose. How Greek 
 and beautif ul it was ! Surely she could refrain 
 from thinking of radical theories if she kept her 
 eyes firmly upon Temp's nose ! 
 
 No one noticed that she was not listening. 
 Everyone was too busy talking to be polite. 
 Not that they usually were, anyway. The 
 men believed too firmly that women were their 
 equals to be courteous to girls, and the girls be- 
 lieved it too firmly to be courteous to each 
 
 other. 
 
 142 
 
MUST THERE BE CAUSES? 
 
 All would have been well had not the fattest 
 of the Russian girls taken occasion to speak 
 softly of the Cause. 
 
 Someone rose from her seat. Her chair 
 scraped noisily. Everyone turned to look at 
 her. 
 
 " Oh," said Bettina, with a low moan, " must 
 there always be causes? " She clutched at her 
 chair back. There were desperation and plead- 
 ing in her tones. 
 
 A tense silence held the room. The mouth 
 of the Russian girl gaped. The thin suffrage 
 lecturer looked disapprovingly at Betty. She 
 always had distrusted her. She was much too 
 pretty. 
 
 Betty turned to Temp pleadingly, mildly in- 
 tent on explaining. 
 
 ' 1 am so tired of there always being causes," 
 she said. 
 
 Temp rose and went sympathetically over 
 toward her. 
 
 " She's a little unstrung," he told the com- 
 pany. " She's been dancing every night — and 
 all these meetings and things," his words 
 
 trailed off vaguely. 
 
 143 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 There was a sympathetic murmur. A little 
 after, the party were all having coffee on Sixth. 
 The prettiest girl leaned over kindly to Betty. 
 
 " Dear Betty," she said, and patted her 
 hand. " IVe a little capsule I take. It quiets 
 the nerves wonderfully. I'll bring you over a 
 couple to-morrow." 
 
 144 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 BETTINA AND THE BUS CONDUCTOR 
 
 The dense crowds on top of buses, except 
 for those obviously lovers, are made up of peo- 
 ple who have been jilted, or whose shares in oil 
 mines have proven worthless. They climb to 
 the top with melancholy faces, and half an hour 
 later climb down beaming good-will, and health 
 thoughts. The power of nature and the open 
 air is well known, but it must be an influence 
 subtler than that. Perhaps there is something 
 about the green paint. 
 
 All the usual types were present to-day, 
 paying their fee of ten cents to be " psyched " 
 by Nature. Besides, Bettina was on the bus. 
 It seemed to be the only place just now where 
 she could be alone. 
 
 She had a good deal to think over. Many 
 
 things had happened since that eventful day 
 
 now almost a month ago, when she had gone 
 
 145 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 off to embrace blindly whatever causes there 
 might be. So many theories had been hurled 
 at her at once that she had to be alone a bit to 
 unsnarl them. 
 
 She was already ashamed of her ungrateful 
 outburst about causes. She had even taken 
 the capsules. But she still seemed to have 
 nerves. She had never had nerves above Four- 
 teenth Street, but then she loyally refused to 
 remember that. 
 
 But, there were so many sensations she was 
 feeling just now. Could it be that she was 
 tiring of things in Elysium? Could it be that 
 she was homesick? 
 
 Ever since coming to the Village Bettina 
 had felt uneasily a lack of something. 
 
 Finally she had begun dimly to comprehend 
 that it might be soap. 
 
 " Where," she said to herself, " do these Bol- 
 shevists ever get soap boxes anyway? One 
 would think they'd be the last persons to have 
 them! And what do they do with the soap 
 first? I think no evidences have ever been dis- 
 covered? " None, since she had been in the 
 
 Village, had ever been found by her. 
 
 146 
 
THE BUS CONDUCTOR 
 
 Ever since Bettina had discovered the class 
 war, she had been too wildly excited to care 
 greatly about clean table-cloths or such things, 
 but now she began to have a hankering for the 
 flesh pots. 
 
 She went up to the Public Library for a 
 sight of a quiet, clean, orderly place, and had 
 no sooner sunk gratefully into a seat at one of 
 the long tables than she looked across to find 
 an unkempt, shaggy, anarchist-looking person 
 opposite her. She did not feel that he had less 
 right to be there than anyone else — only she 
 had come for a change. 
 
 She went to church on Fifth Avenue, the one 
 sure retreat of conservatism, and the sermon 
 was about " Christ, the first Socialist." 
 
 After that, Bettina gave up in despair. 
 
 She thought of all this now, as she sat 
 mournfully in the windy front seat of the bus, 
 with her chin in her hand. 
 
 Below her walked New York. As the bus 
 went farther up and left the white arch behind, 
 New York, sauntering past her, seemed to 
 grow gayer with violets and orchids. 
 
 Orchids! Should she ever see an orchid 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 again, except in a shop window? No, never! 
 She would be a traitor to her class if she wore 
 one. Her adopted class, that is. 
 
 Her eyes filled as she reflected that she 
 would probably never sit in a taxi again. She 
 never before had appreciated taxis. Now they 
 seemed to her eye marvels of perfection. 
 Would she ever again even have her carfare on 
 the " "La " paid? Darn this equality of women, 
 anyway ! 
 
 " Fare, please!" 
 
 She started. Here she was, caught with- 
 out her dime ready. Surely if she'd learned 
 nothing else this past month, she ought 
 to have become an adept at paying her car- 
 fare. 
 
 She looked interestedly at the young con- 
 ductor as she pushed her dime firmly into the 
 slot. She wondered if he had Bolshevist the- 
 ories, or if he paid his wife's carfare. Some- 
 how, he looked as if he did pay it. 
 
 She thought mournfully of that world from 
 which she was forever shut out, the world 
 where men paid for their own meals, and even 
 
 for those of the ladies they took out to dinner. 
 
 148 ' 
 
THE BUS CONDUCTOR 
 
 She wished ardently that she were safely, 
 sanely, married to the young conductor. 
 
 But even as that peaceful thought crossed 
 her mind she remembered Temp's face. 
 
 Dear Temp, how very Greek his nose was! 
 And how very innocent his heart! It was 
 adorable being allowed to pay the bills of any- 
 one who could make love in such an enchanting 
 voice ! 
 
 And by the time the bus had clumsily turned 
 and made its way back down the Drive and the 
 Avenue, and under the Washington Arch, and 
 had swung to its destination, she could climb 
 down the steps with a rush of love for the red 
 brick houses of the Village, and wildly eager to 
 take Temp to tea, was ready to say, " Thy peo- 
 ple shall be my people, and thy cause, my 
 cause." 
 
 149 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE WHITE AND GOLD CHAIR 
 
 " Of course, the touch of lips is a more per- 
 fect lyric than any words can write," asserted 
 Temp, " but one can't go about kissing 
 editors," he added after a gloomy pause. 
 
 Bettina heard the murmur of his voice ab- 
 sently. " Is there anything I can do for you, 
 Temp? " she asked. 
 
 He shot a suspicious glance at her, but was 
 reassured. " No," he said. " What do you 
 think of this for a first line? " He paused im- 
 pressively, raised his hand, and declaimed in 
 the awed, hushed, but sonorous voice he kept 
 for poetry, more particularly his own : 
 
 "There are no drowned men in her eyes. 
 
 " Dear me! " said Bettina, startled. 
 
 His gaze was on his paper. 
 
 150 
 
 9> 
 
THE GOLD CHAIR 
 
 " Rather good, I think," he said, compla- 
 cently. He read it again, more sonorously, 
 more awed, more slowly: 
 
 "There are no drowned men in her eyes." 
 
 " It isn't every day," he mused, " one can 
 write a line like that." 
 
 " I'm sure it isn't," assented Bettina politely. 
 
 He looked at her fondly. " You always un- 
 derstand me," he whispered. 
 
 " Yes," she said sadly. 
 
 " Shall I read you the poem? " asked Temp 
 in holy tones. 
 
 "Do!" 
 
 He took his stand prayerfully, raised his 
 arm, and opened his lips. 
 
 " Hoo-hoo ! " came a hopeful feminine call 
 from the street below. 
 
 " Stick your head out of the window, Temp, 
 and tell her to come on up," directed Betty. 
 
 " Come on up, Paula! " 
 
 Temp opened the door for her eagerly a mo- 
 ment later. 
 
 "I say, Paula, I've just finished a new 
 poem. Shall I read it to you? " 
 
 151 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " Oh, do, Temp ! ' ' cried Paula sincerely. 
 
 Temp absently placed a chair for her, his 
 eyes still upon his paper. Then he took his 
 stand before her, raised the paper to a height 
 which made the sweep of his arm more artistic, 
 threw back his splendid head, and with rapt 
 eyes waited a moment. That hushed pause 
 was a wonderful preparation for the reading of 
 a serious poem, and Temp always got his hear- 
 ers into the proper mood by an almost uncon- 
 scious, but most effective use of it. Then his 
 liquid, low, deep, altogether lovely voice began: 
 
 "There are no drowned men in her eyes." 
 
 " Oh, Betty," interrupted Paula briskly, 
 have you seen the new red tarns at Wana- 
 maker's? Nessa's just bought one. Positively 
 sinful, I call it. They make one look nineteen. 
 The mothers of eligible girls ought to do some- 
 thing abouti it. Oh, do go on, Temp, I'm 
 awfully sorry, I'm sure. I just forgot about 
 the poem!" 
 
 Temp looked at tier with the calm for- 
 giveness in his lovely eyes with which a martyr 
 
 might have looked up from the lions in the 
 
 152 
 
 <e 
 
THE GOLD CHAIR 
 
 arena toward her. Bettina's heart bled for 
 him, but he bore his hurt nobly. He raised his 
 hand again, waited for an even longer pause, 
 then began: 
 
 "There are no drowned men in her eyes." 
 
 Paula and Bettina were hanging on his 
 words, awed and hushed. There was a rush on 
 the stairs outside, a buzz of chatter, and, with- 
 out knocking, Nessa flung open the door and 
 flounced in, followed by Petra. 
 
 " Hello, everybody ! How do you like my 
 new tarn? If it doesn't bring at least four 
 proposals I'll consider that I wasted three dol- 
 lars! Oh, Temp, what's that in your hand? 
 Poem? New one? Do read it to us! ' 
 
 Temp's crestfallen look gave way to a trust- 
 ful, happy smile. 
 
 " Read it right now! " demanded Nessa with 
 
 her pretty, peremptory air of a spoiled child. 
 
 " Right this minute! Betty, Sonia's fallen out 
 
 with Jim at last ! Who would have believed it ? 
 
 And Tad's had a poem taken by Century! 
 
 He's paid his bill at ' Three Steps Down.' You 
 
 know he used to say that having a poem ac- 
 
 153 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 cepted proves that it's no good, but now he 
 says that art in America is looking up." 
 
 " Can't you find a chair, Petra? " asked 
 Betty hospitably. ' Just brush that pile of 
 magazines off on the floor. Be careful of that 
 coal. It's frightfully hard to get off your 
 dress." 
 
 " Betty, what are you going to wear to 
 Bobby Edwards' Cockroach Ball? " It was 
 Nessa's exclamatory, underlined, excited tones 
 again. " I haven't a thing but my rhythm 
 rags, and Greek nymphs are awfully overdone. 
 Temp, do hurry up and read us that poem. 
 What are you keeping us waiting for? " 
 
 Temp hopefully raised his arm half-way. 
 
 " Oh, Betty, have you any powder? My 
 nose is a fright. Thanks. And your mirror. 
 Thanks, awfully! Go on, Temp ! " 
 
 Where was that atmosphere of restful in- 
 vitation to Beauty? Temp tried to invoke it 
 once again. 
 
 He prayed to Beauty with his eyes. Surely 
 
 people must observe silence when they see a 
 
 man at his devotions. 
 
 But not these girls. It was of no use. 
 
 154 
 
THE GOLD CHAIR 
 
 Chatter, gossip ! Temp ran his shapely white 
 hand through his blond hair in anguish. 
 
 Betty stole to his side. 
 
 " Never mind, Temp," she whispered. 
 " They're not poets, and they don't understand. 
 But to-morrow afternoon's the * Younger Free 
 Verse Poets' ' meeting, you know. Don't you 
 remember they're to meet here? And no one 
 will interrupt you then! " 
 
 Temp straightened. His face brightened. 
 Of course! No one would interrupt then. 
 Poets all, how soothing it would be. The 
 quiet room, the kindred spirits — the unspoiled 
 communion with Beauty ! He gave Bettina a 
 grateful glance. Then, more contentedly, but 
 still with a stifled sigh, he folded up his poem. 
 
 " What are you doing, Temp? " cried Paula. 
 " Don't mind these infants. Go on, I want 
 to hear that poem." 
 
 Temp could have kissed the hem of her 
 
 plaid walking skirt. A poem really should be 
 
 tried aloud while it is fresh, while the pride of 
 
 the author still sees the trailing clouds of glory 
 
 hanging about it. 
 
 He moved over toward the window with 
 
 155 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 Paula and the loyal Betty, and left Nessa and 
 Petra deep in the planning of costumes and 
 gossip of the Square. 
 
 Paula took the only good chair, while Betty 
 sat in her favorite position, on the floor, with 
 her feet curled up under her. 
 
 Temp would have liked to choose the floor 
 himself, hut he felt that this of all poems de- 
 manded surroundings of dignity. 
 
 He sat carefully upon a very fragile white 
 and gold chair which was a relic of some long- 
 ago tenant's strivings toward the beautiful. 
 Because of its indisputably spindling appear- 
 ance, he had always avoided that chair when 
 they had had more room, before the ton of coal 
 had come to make his home its abiding place. 
 
 He pulled the patient paper out of his cor- 
 duroy pocket once more. At sight of it all his 
 satisfaction came back. He knew he had done 
 a good thing — something that would live. 
 
 Reading his face, Betty beamed. She, too, 
 
 realized that this was a piece of Art, and she 
 
 was to see it before the world could. Tears of 
 
 earnestness and gratitude misted her eyes. 
 
 Temp was ready. He threw back his head, 
 
 156 
 
THE GOLD CHAIR 
 
 ran his graceful hand through his golden hair, 
 and let his face find its rapt look. His eyes 
 were like Galahad's at such moments. But 
 best of all was his melodious moving voice. 
 
 He raised his hand once more; opened his 
 chiseled lips : 
 
 "There are no drowned men in her eyes " 
 
 A rending crash broke the hush. A thud. 
 The white and gold chair had collapsed. 
 
 157 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE STRAP-HANGER TO THE SARDINE 
 
 " Free verse is the Ford car of literature/' 
 the boyish poet with black curly hair was say- 
 ing bitterly. " It's within the reach of every- 
 one. That's why it was so suddenly preva- 
 lent." 
 
 " Not real free verse," objected Temp loy- 
 ally. " Anyone can imitate it." 
 
 " Yes, but how can you tell which is the imi- 
 tation? Witter Bynner was better imitating 
 than when he was writing his own stuff," the 
 curly haired one answered gloomily. 
 
 " Anyway," said a Russian girl in a yellow 
 blouse, brightly, " Vers Libre has freed us ! ' 
 
 A confirmatory murmur ran round the room. 
 
 "From what?" Bettina wondered, and if 
 poets, as a sect, were so unhappy now, what 
 must they have been before they were freed? 
 
 The Younger Free Verse Poets were holding 
 
 their monthly meeting. Betty and Temp, with 
 
 158 
 
THE STRAP-HANGER 
 
 Paula assisting, had had some trouble bestow- 
 ing them in corners and along the sides of the 
 room in necessary but not too close juxtaposi- 
 tion to the coal. 
 
 It was an inspiring meeting. Bettina had 
 never seen so many poets together before. She 
 had known poets were earnest, she had had 
 ample opportunity of late, in fact, to notice it. 
 But the effect of so much earnestness at a given 
 moment in one room was overpowering. 
 
 She couldn't remember many of their names, 
 and as they all called each other by the most 
 fantastic nicknames, she was not helped, as the 
 afternoon went on, to straighten them out. 
 
 But it was none the less exciting. Indeed, 
 more so. For she half surmised that if she 
 heard the names she'd find them unknown, 
 whereas if she didn't she could fancy that the 
 greatest names in contemporary poetry were 
 borne by her coal-surrounded guests. She was 
 thrilled, through and through. 
 
 But her great excitement came, not from the 
 fact that she, obscure little speck, was entirely 
 surrounded by poets, but from her vivid reali- 
 zation of the fact that this was the thirtieth 
 
 159 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 day. The month of probation for Temp and 
 all that he stood for, was up to-day. 
 
 And she had decided. Of course she wanted 
 to go on with her experiment as she had 
 planned, but deep in her heart she had really 
 decided. She was going to marry Temp. 
 Revolution, poetry, irresponsibility — Temp 
 was so starrily wonderful that he made up for 
 it all. 
 
 She had had her moments of rebellion, but 
 they had passed. She was ashamed of having 
 dared to rebel. How could she ever have been 
 so ungrateful ! How wonderful all this was ! 
 
 These soulful thin-faced women, these up- 
 lifted boys with dreamy eyes, how she loved 
 to be allowed, quietly and unobtrusively, to 
 look at them ! 
 
 The men's suits were rather unpressed, and 
 the girls' artistic garments somewhat un- 
 hemmed and now and then spotted and coffee- 
 stained, but it was their souls that mattered. 
 
 And chief among them, more shabby of coat, 
 
 but more shining of soul than all the rest, was 
 
 Temp, her Temp. 
 
 Next Betty on the left, sat Paula. Her non- 
 160 
 
THE STRAPHANGER 
 
 chalant presence, and that of Petra and Nessa, 
 now, in the presence of superior numbers ut- 
 terly subdued, made Betty feel at home. 
 
 There was a Philistine present. Betty had 
 had him pointed out by Petra. She had al- 
 ways supposed they were a dark people, like 
 the Jews, but this one had small, blue eyes and 
 was stout and red-faced. 
 
 She understood they had done something 
 awful to Saul, or was it Samson, and that all 
 poets had hated them for it ever since. Other- 
 wise she would rather have liked the Philistine, 
 whose name was Jenkins. 
 
 Perhaps sensing the fact that there was the 
 bond of the outlander between them, he had 
 taken a seat on the floor at Bettina's right. He 
 had earnestly refused his share of the sofa 
 cushions, and insisted that she have them all. 
 
 In spite of herself, this action of his made a 
 
 warm glow about her heart. Men who are 
 
 mixed up in causes, and the bleeding heart of 
 
 humanity, and art, have so little time left for 
 
 the small courtesies of living. And after a 
 
 while, even the most contented and loyal Hy- 
 
 patia misses them. 
 
 161 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 The company now was bitterly denouncing 
 the ancient outlived tyranny of the sonnet. 
 
 " If," propounded Temp magnificently, " I 
 don't naturally think in sonnets, why should I 
 be required to think in sonnets? " 
 
 " I don't suppose anyone really wants him 
 to, or in polyrhythmic prose either," mur- 
 mured the Philistine. 
 
 Bettina moved a bit farther from Mr. Jen- 
 kins. Not that she minded his saying it at all, 
 but it had suddenly occurred to her that it was 
 not dignified to sit quite so close to anyone. 
 
 " Never mind him, Betty," exclaimed Paula, 
 indignantly, overhearing. " He's only a tired 
 business man anyway." 
 
 " What's this about the tired Business 
 Man? " inquired Mr. Jenkins, genially, half 
 hearing, and turning to the somewhat discon- 
 certed Paula. " Considering the sort of shows 
 written for him, I should say it's no wonder 
 he's tired." 
 
 Paula haughtily refused to answer, and 
 
 Betty was too eagerly trying to catch Temp's 
 
 golden words, to pay any more attention to 
 
 Philistines. 
 
 162 
 
THE STRAP-HANGER 
 
 But the earnest poets about her were too 
 eager to talk themselves, and, someway, Betty 
 was of the exact nature to be always singled 
 out as an audience. 
 
 A thin young poet was sitting on the floor in 
 front of her, for, seeing that the chairs were 
 heaped with household goods, the guests were 
 obliged to sit on the floor, and, like the specta- 
 tors of drama in the Greek Theatre at Berke- 
 ley, many of them had brought their own sofa 
 cushions. 
 
 The thin young poet had turned to her, his 
 eyes glowing with the awed light common to 
 poets in action. He wrote rhymed verse only, 
 and was trying earnestly to convert her. " The 
 exact word," he began, doing things in the air 
 with his hands. 
 
 " Yes, I know about the exact word," an- 
 swered Bettina soothingly and timidly, " but I 
 didn't think anybody except the imagists were 
 allowed to use it." 
 
 The thin poet turned from her in despair, 
 
 and she was able at last to hear what Temp was 
 
 saying. 
 
 " Titles are an outworn convention," he was 
 
 163 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 declaring nobly. " Kreymborg had the fore- 
 sight to do away with punctuation marks, and 
 capitals, and sometimes even with titles, but 
 we should not stop at that. We should firmly 
 and definitely abolish them for all time." 
 
 There was applause from a fat poet who 
 never had been able to think of titles for his 
 things. 
 
 " Of course," Temp went on, " the poet 
 should have the title firmly in his own mind." 
 
 " Oh, yes," murmured the fat one. 
 
 " For instance," continued Temp, " I shall 
 read you several little things of my own in 
 which I have used the principle." 
 
 He stood up, consulted a paper in his hand, 
 was silent an instant, until the stillness told 
 him that the room was en rapport. At the end 
 of each line he paused impressively. Bettina 
 thrilled to the words he read. 
 
 "Whose passing foot 
 Disturbed this ant-hill?" 
 
 He lowered the paper and looked at them in 
 
 triumph. There was a silence of admiration. 
 
 164 
 
THE STRAPHANGER 
 
 A certain thought held each respectful listener, 
 but no one liked to put it into words. 
 
 Finally the fat poet spoke out. 
 
 " What was the title? " he asked. 
 
 " ' Six O'clock, at Forty-Second and Broad- 
 way/ " answered Temp. " You know the 
 crowds, how they scurry around like ants." 
 
 There was a murmur of approval. 
 
 The Philistine turned to Bettina brightly. 
 " Do you know, I just thought of a poem. It 
 came to me," he added piously. 
 
 Since she did not at all desire to, Bettina 
 murmured politely, " I'd love to hear it." 
 
 His exquisitely modulated, low voice mur- 
 mured : 
 
 "If you were not witlt me . . . 
 The world would be a cold, urilighted place. . . ." 
 
 Bettina did not comment. 
 
 " The title of that is," said he wistfully, 
 " ' The Camper to His Last Match.' " 
 
 Bettina turned a dignified shoulder to him. 
 
 How dare he make fun of art, and Temp? 
 
 But, as he said these things only to her, no harm 
 
 was done. 
 
 165 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 Temp was reading others of his untitled bits. 
 The audience and Bettina found them exceed- 
 ingly vital. 
 
 Even the Philistine was listening attentively. 
 
 Temp finished reading his un-titled 
 thoughts. A murmur of approbation greeted 
 him. 
 
 " Clear-cut as an etching," asserted the fat 
 poet. 
 
 " Simple and yet profound," declared the 
 thin one. 
 
 Temp glowed. Not that he cared for praise, 
 but still it is pleasant in one's lifetime to have 
 the recognition of one's fellows. 
 
 The murmured paean of recognition died 
 down. A momentary quietness held the room. 
 
 It was broken by the earnest voice of the 
 Philistine. 
 
 " I have a poem written with the title-less 
 idea in mind," he proffered mildly. " I wonder 
 if you would care — 
 
 j> 
 
 " Certainly, certainly," offered Temp gra- 
 ciously. " We shall be glad to hear it." 
 The Philistine rose. He was a ponderous, 
 
 un-willowy, red-faced person, but he had a 
 
 166 
 
THE STRAP-HANGER 
 
 wonderful voice. Wistful, appealing, poign- 
 ant, haunting. It was a voice which would 
 have made the most banal things beautiful. 
 That voice, joined to the words of yearning and 
 longing and sympathy of his poem would have 
 moved the heart of a stone. 
 
 After each line, he paused, his lingering, 
 hurt voice bringing tears to the eyes. He made 
 a long pause before the last word, and then 
 whispered it. One felt the poet's sincerity, his 
 sympathy with the crushed. 
 
 "Small one . . . 
 Beautiful . . . 
 I also — understand. . . ." 
 
 The silence was applause, earnest, un- 
 doubted. 
 
 Temp's voice, when he spoke, was keyed to 
 the intensity of the poem just spoken. 
 
 A lovely thing,' ' he pronounced, moved. 
 
 What is your title for it? " 
 
 The red-faced man had a clear voice. " * The 
 Strap-hanger to the Sardine,' " he said. 
 
 Betty was not quite sure, in the general tur- 
 moil of the next few moments, whether the 
 
 167 
 
 tt 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 Philistine was put out, or went of his own ac- 
 cord. 
 
 The indignant chatter had died down, and 
 the poets were again finding each his own 
 sofa cushion. They were all a little sad. Bet- 
 tina wondered how anyone could have done 
 such a terrible thing. In the crushed silence, 
 Temp summed up the shameful interlude. 
 
 " There are some men," said he, bitterly, 
 " to whom nothing is sacred." 
 
 168 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 PICNICKING ON PARNASSUS 
 
 The unpleasant incident of Mr. Jenkins 
 was forgotten as soon as possible, and the 
 stream of poesy flowed on. " Poisy " one 
 would have said, Bettina supposed. She no- 
 ticed that everyone present said " poit," and 
 " poim," in a queer, quick monosyllable. They 
 did that at the Poetry Society, also, Paula told 
 her, so it must be quite the thing. And there 
 were many queerer things about poits than 
 their pronunciation, Betty found. 
 
 But on the whole, how she liked them! How 
 wonderfully they had all taken the incident of 
 the paint for instance. Indeed, they had been 
 so tactful about it that Betty herself had for- 
 gotten it until this instant. The day before, 
 having borrowed a dollar, she and Temp had 
 
 been seized with a civic zeal to improve the ap- 
 
 169 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 pearance of the studio. He had gone across 
 to Sixth Avenue and bought the cans of paint 
 and the brushes, and together they had untir- 
 ingly painted every chair they could drag out 
 from under the debris. Luckily there was paint 
 enough, also for the table, the box which served 
 as a support for the typewriter, and everything 
 else that could possibly be painted. Then, be- 
 cause they hated to waste any paint, they went 
 over them all again. 
 
 Everything was painted a dull black, with 
 decorative clusters at the edges of purple and 
 green sort of circular, globular looking flowers 
 and fruits. It was quite in the Village tradi- 
 tion. 
 
 But as soon as everything was finished, Bet- 
 tina discovered that the smell of the paint made 
 her sick, and Temp that it seemed to have no 
 intention of drying, but came off on everything, 
 so they sensibly moved all the furniture into 
 the hall. 
 
 They had forgotten all about it by the time 
 
 the guests were to arrive, and owing to the hall 
 
 being very dark, the poets, one by one, or in 
 
 twos and threes, had stumbled over the furni- 
 
 170 
 
PICNICKING 
 
 ture, with disastrous results, particularly to 
 those who happened to be wearing light colors. 
 
 Betty was distressed, but what could they 
 do ? After the room was half full of poets, they 
 obviously could not bring in the sticky furni- 
 ture to wreak further havoc. Temp contented 
 himself with standing at the top of the stairs 
 and shouting, " Mind the paint! " at each new 
 arrival, which, since they all took it as a false 
 alarm and a joke, was really not so useful as it 
 might have been. 
 
 But, having their minds fixed on higher 
 things, they were a forgiving group, and for 
 that, Betty warmed to them. 
 
 She had been stricken with remorse, until 
 she heard Mr. Jenkins smash into the black 
 table in the hall on his way out. Then her 
 heart felt a thrill of gratitude toward the faith- 
 ful table, alert and vigorous defender; and she 
 was glad that Temp had the foresight to sug- 
 gest decorating the furniture. Temp was al- 
 ways so clever! 
 
 Admiring him so thoroughly, Betty was 
 
 obliged to admire also his roomful of poets, and 
 
 she did so. Particularly the men. They were 
 
 171 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 so different from certain others she had known, 
 lawyers, for example. Of course, there had 
 been times when she rebelled tearfully against 
 these temperamental, artistic men who were as 
 selfishly devoted to Art as monks and things 
 once were to saving their own souls; but she 
 was ashamed of rebelling. It was only in mo- 
 ments of weakness that she wanted to marry 
 bus conductors, who paid the bills. 
 
 She was grateful to-day for having been 
 hauled and hoisted, puffing, up the trail, and 
 allowed to picnic on Parnassus with the right- 
 ful inhabitants. How little she deserved to be 
 there. She couldn't have written anything like 
 these poems they were reading! 
 
 For instance, the one that the inkiest 
 bloused, blazing-est eyed girl was reading now, 
 in a voice awed at the beauty of her own im- 
 aginings, something about: 
 
 it 
 
 Finding words that fit like stones into one another, 
 
 And of them building walls 
 
 To shut out that sly thief, Death. . . ." 
 
 Betty could almost hear the dots. 
 
 Now the intense lady was intoning another: 
 
 172 
 
PICNICKING 
 
 "With all my passion for myself, I am frustrated, 
 For there is a part of myself that eludes me still. 
 For that I will but crush my spirit more passion- 
 
 ately 
 And try to forget. . . ." 
 
 " Dear me! " said Bettina. But before one 
 had more than begun wondering what it could 
 possibly mean, the current comment had swept 
 it out of sight. 
 
 Now a slim, pale poet rose, awkward, but 
 very earnest. One understood that he had to 
 do with the new nature poetry. 
 
 Betty guessed, from looking at him, that he 
 had never gotten nearer nature than accident- 
 ally seeing the moon from Fifth Avenue, but, 
 of course, only a reactionary would hold that 
 against him. 
 
 "I had forgotten you! 9 he began, tragic- 
 ally, getting out each word with a jerk, and 
 stopping so long after it that his poems were, 
 as he himself might delicately have defined 
 them, beads of syllables on a thread of pauses: 
 
 "I had forgotten you in the forest, 
 The forest which is so unlike you; 
 So still, so wise, so calm. 
 
 173 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 Then a bird sang 
 
 Suddenly, sweet, swift, 
 
 And flew past me 
 
 And I lay sobbing under the stars. . . ." • 
 
 That last line was realistic. Betty could 
 readily imagine him sobbing. He was that 
 kind. But how had he ever heard about sword 
 ferns, she wondered, for his next poem de- 
 clared: 
 
 "The sword ferns over my head break the sun- 
 light into bars like silver 
 From some mine in Peru 
 And I clutch at the bars. 
 But they are too heavy 
 And fall through my fingers. . . ." 
 
 There was wistfulness in his voice; one was 
 moved to tears. 
 
 "Beautiful!" commented Temp, in the si- 
 lence which was applause. " All the disap- 
 pointments of humanity in a line." 
 
 " Five lines," murmured Bettina. 
 
 Then the poet proceeded to put love into a 
 line or two. His mournful, sweet, disap- 
 pointed voice asserted wearily: 
 
 174 
 
PICNICKING 
 
 t( 
 
 My thoughts of you 
 
 Are so many veils 
 
 Bound around my eyes 
 
 To keep me from seeing 
 
 The path to pain, 
 
 To keep me from finding 
 
 The narrow path 
 
 That leads to wisdom. . . ." 
 
 One was obliged to think of love in that tone. 
 It was the tradition among the clear-visioned 
 artistic ones. Betty had a fleeting mental im- 
 age of the bus conductor. She did not believe 
 he thought of his wife in that melancholy way. 
 But, of course, what did a bus conductor know 
 of love? 
 
 The next poem was long and intense, and as 
 full of dripping blood and ruined castles as 
 though it were a composition by Amy Howell. 
 
 Only, alas, it so very clearly was not ! 
 
 Nevertheless, it held the audience in a 
 breathless silence. A silence, however, that 
 was broken all too soon. 
 
 There was a noise of stumbling, a knock at 
 the door, and a clear, manly voice sang out: 
 Laundry bill ! " 
 
 175 
 
 « 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 ENTER THE LAUNDRYMAN 
 
 "What do you mean?" demanded Temp 
 haughtily, as, the door not having been locked 
 after the Jenkins hejira, the head of the laun- 
 dryman was thrust in. 
 
 It was clearly a rhetorical question only, but 
 the shameless and unabashed laundryman in- 
 sisted upon taking it literally. 
 
 " Bill. Laundry. Clean your clothes," he 
 explained genially. Then, to further eluci- 
 date: "Washee, washee!" and the wretched 
 person went through a vigorous pantomime of 
 rubbing clothes on a washboard. 
 
 Temp stood before him in outraged pride, 
 
 looking as Sir Galahad might have looked if 
 
 he had been accused of throwing a kiss to a 
 
 chorus girl. 
 
 Temp had not paid for his laundry for 
 
 176 
 
THE LAUNDRYMAN 
 
 months. He looked able-bodied and lived in 
 the same block, and they had thought him a 
 good risk. But all things come to an end. 
 
 Temp, though a master of words, somehow 
 could not find any on hand to help him at the 
 moment. After a long look he turned away 
 from the laundryman, and addressed the com- 
 munity at large. 
 
 His resentment toward society found voice: 
 " They're always blaming radicals for wearing 
 dirty collars," said he cuttingly. "Now you 
 see," he flung out his arm and faced the com- 
 pany with disillusioned eyes, " what happens 
 when vou do have them washed ! " 
 
 Bettina realized that he was right. Even she 
 could see the logic of what he said. It was 
 plain that there was something wrong some- 
 where. She was not able to right it, but she 
 had no doubt the Revolution would. For, 
 though her faith waxed and waned, she was yet 
 a believer. 
 
 The laundryman moved impatiently. He 
 
 was an unusually large laundryman, to Betty's 
 
 affrighted eyes, and she clutched Paula's sleeve 
 
 in apprehension. 
 
 177 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 Temp anticipated his visitor's forward move- 
 ment. " Call in again, will you? " he said. 
 
 " Can't do it," said the laundryman. 
 
 " I'm busy." 
 
 " Can't help it. Come through. Orders 
 from the boss." 
 
 Then the laundryman's eyes fell to his own 
 person, and for the first time he realized the 
 results of his stumbling through the darkened 
 hall. 
 
 The eyes of the poets followed his. There 
 were smudges of colored paint upon his trou- 
 sers. The black table, too, had not shirked its 
 duty. 
 
 The laundryman's countenance became red, 
 and his eyes flashed rage. 
 
 " If you don't pay up, young fellow, you'll 
 be made to! " he said darkly, and he turned and 
 tramped with dignity, tempered with care, 
 through the hallway. 
 
 Temp shut the door and locked it, with the 
 satisfaction of one crushing a too-loudly buzz- 
 ing mosquito. 
 
 " All right," he said, " go on. Who's going 
 to read next? You, Don? " 
 
 178 
 
THE LAUNDBYMAN 
 
 Betty knew before he began to read that he 
 was not a good poet. He was much too fat. 
 But he was quite as earnest as the thin ones. 
 
 And his poems were quite as bad. 
 
 Loud and heavy shoes were coming along 
 the corridor, clumping like the gods of the 
 Mountain in the last act. 
 
 " The laundryman! " Temp breathed. 
 
 There was a hammering at the door, a hand 
 outside turned and pulled at the knob, and then 
 the balked hammering became a fusillade. 
 
 "Oh, open it!" Temp gave in wearily. 
 " We might as well ! He'll wake the neighbor- 
 hood." 
 
 Bettina opened the door. 
 
 But it was not the face of the laundryman 
 that confronted her. She looked her inquiry. 
 
 " Gasman ! " called out the newcomer, with a 
 menacing look. 
 
 179 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 PARNASSUS BESIEGED 
 
 " Dear me! " said Bettina. 
 
 The besieger looked past her and over the 
 guest's heads at Temp. 
 
 " Bill's been running too long," he an- 
 nounced briefly. " Came to turn off the gas." 
 
 " Oh, go ahead! Turn it off! " said Temp 
 bitterly. 
 
 And with the eyes of the company upon him, 
 the gasman performed his ceremony. 
 
 He had managed to avoid the furniture, by 
 good luck alone, as he came in; but his return 
 trip was not so fortunate, Betty noted with re- 
 newed satisfaction. 
 
 This time Temp forebore to comment, and 
 with dignity the meeting went on, for a few 
 peaceful seconds, until again the noise of ap- 
 proach could not be ignored. 
 
 " What is it this time! " exclaimed the host 
 in despair. 
 
 180 
 
PARNASSUS BESIEGED 
 
 He was soon to know, 
 
 A small, dapper, businesslike man was ad- 
 mitted who handed him a slip. It was all too 
 clearly another bill. 
 
 " Electric light," he said, and waited. 
 
 Another painful scene ensued. The small 
 dapper man had a bulldog jaw, after all, and 
 the controversy promised to be exciting. 
 
 Finally he was repulsed and went off mut- 
 tering. 
 
 " It was foolish, I suppose, to try to have a 
 meeting on the first of the month,' ' remarked 
 Temp to Bettina. " But I never can remem- 
 ber dates. If I'd thought of it, I'd have spent 
 to-day and to-morrow at the Public Library. 
 We're always being urged by posters and leaf- 
 lets to use it." 
 
 It was becoming more and more impossible 
 to continue the meeting. For poetry, espe- 
 cially the newer sort, to be read, requires an at- 
 mosphere, a hush, a feeling of the presence of 
 Beauty, and who could maintain that atmos- 
 phere in the face of gasmen? 
 
 Not even Temp. There were murmurs from 
 one and another of the guests. 
 
 181 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " I think we'd better go." 
 
 " No, no," objected their host hastily. 
 
 And Paula, settling herself more comfort- 
 ably beside Bettina, remarked: 
 
 " Go? Why, I wouldn't miss this for 
 worlds! Somehow I have a feeling that all is 
 not yet over. I feel as if something more were 
 about to happen." 
 
 As if her prophecy brought on the waiting 
 doom, an angry feminine voice sounded below, 
 and a flouncing person came determinedly up 
 the steps, only to run into first one and 
 then another of the exiled articles of furni- 
 ture. 
 
 The contacts did not improve her temper, it 
 was apparent. 
 
 " Dear me," said Bettina again. u She can't 
 be a bill collector ! " 
 
 " Now, who on earth," wondered Temp. 
 
 The woman flung open the door, and en- 
 tered, as if on a crusade. 
 
 " It's Clarice," explained Temp. 
 
 " Dear me!" murmured Betty. 
 
 Paula sat up straight, suddenly alert. 
 " Scandal! A cast off sweetheart!" 
 
 182 
 
PARNASSUS BESIEGED 
 
 " Clarice, the cleaning woman," explained 
 Temp in a whisper. 
 
 " Oh, yes, the sweeping lady." Betty, re- 
 lieved but apprehensive, now remembered hav- 
 ing seen her entering or leaving several times. 
 " But surely, she didn't come to sweep to- 
 day?" 
 
 Clarice, the cleaning lady, had been stand- 
 ing in the middle of the room regarding them 
 stormily. Now her wrath surged forth in tor- 
 rents of words. But Clarice, who had been so 
 christened by Temp, and whose name was not 
 Clarice at all, but only Maria, was Italian, and, 
 though on calm days she knew a few words of 
 English, in anger she forgot them all, and the 
 passionate, lyrical volley of words she poured 
 forth was, perhaps fortunately, quite beyond 
 the understanding of her auditors. 
 
 One gathered, however, that she wanted 
 her " mon." With a few interspersed English 
 words, one finally gathered further, that she 
 had worked for many weeks without being 
 paid, and that she proposed to have her due 
 to-day. 
 
 " But this isn't because it's the first of the 
 
 183 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 month," marveled Bettina, as Temp was turn- 
 ing his pockets inside out in a vain attempt to 
 convince Clarice that nothing could be done. 
 " She doesn't know when it's the first, I be- 
 lieve. How did she happen to come to-day? " 
 
 Then light broke in upon Temp. He saw 
 it all. 
 
 " They've told each other! " he cried. " It's 
 that laundryman. He's gone and stirred up 
 all the rest!" 
 
 It was, alas, the truth. 
 
 184 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 CLARICE THE CLEANING LADY 
 
 That was only the beginning. From that 
 moment, creditors rained upon the poets' party 
 in the studio, and while giving most of their 
 threats to the host, turned to the guests also 
 and scattered maledictions alike on the just 
 and the unjust. Partly because of the unpaid 
 bills and partly because of the paint. 
 
 Before Clarice, the cleaning lady, had done 
 telling her tale of woe, she was interrupted by 
 a restaurant keeper from Sixth Avenue who 
 was a friend of the laundryman. Then came 
 Temp's tailor, a swarthy man of an unforgiv- 
 ing disposition, and hard upon their heels, the 
 corner grocer. 
 
 The electric light man arrived by accident. 
 He had had no communication with the laun- 
 dryman ; it was simply his day to collect. 
 
 Which he was not able to do. 
 
 After that, Bettina could really not keep 
 
 185 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 track of who everyone was. There was a car- 
 penter from a near-by street, who had put up 
 Temp's bookshelves. 
 
 In lieu of his pay he took the bookshelves 
 with him, wrenching them off the wall and 
 rudely tipping whatever happened to be upon 
 them down on the heads of guests, with no 
 discrimination whatever. The shower of 
 books, crockery, and pencils added to the con- 
 fusion of coal, wraps and poets. 
 
 The din was growing. The clamoring cred- 
 itors outdid each other. Being mostly of Latin 
 races, they did not hide their emotions. 
 
 "Oh dear!" cried Betty, almost in tears, 
 clutching at Paula, as being quieter and calmer 
 than most of the poets and much more calm 
 than any of the creditors. 
 
 " There, there! " Paula patted her hand. 
 
 " This is what comes," gasped Betty, tear- 
 fully, " of being a genius ! " 
 
 " This is what comes," answered Paula se- 
 verely, " of being an idiot ! " 
 
 Their eyes turned to the besieged Temp. 
 
 " No," returned Betty, " only of loving 
 
 Beauty." 
 
 186 
 
THE CLEANING LADY 
 
 " You see," explained Paula, sanely, " you 
 can't love Beauty as a regular job. You must 
 only do it in your off moments, if you want to 
 keep out of trouble." 
 
 " The world," answered Betty loyally, rais- 
 ing her voice to reach Paula's ear above the 
 din, " owes the poet a living! " 
 
 " But you don't," returned Paula bluntly, 
 " and it's your money he's been living off the 
 past month." 
 
 The red flared into Betty's cheeks. Her 
 eyes glared rage. 
 
 " How can you? Oh, how can you? " she 
 cried. 
 
 " It's for your own good, Bettina. I didn't 
 mean to speak, but now I have, I'm not sorry. 
 Everybody helps Temp. Everyone admires 
 his talent, and succumbs to his charm. He's 
 lovably worthless, that's what he is, and you 
 know it. Oh, I admit he's charming! I know 
 he adores you, and you him! But, don't you 
 see, this is his nature! He'll always be a 
 charming, irresponsible child. Always ! " 
 
 " He is a genius," flared Betty, haughtily 
 and sincerely. " And," remembering some- 
 
 187 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 thing she had heard, and turning to Paula with 
 finality, " you have no standards by which to 
 judge him." 
 
 She went and stood by Temp. 
 
 Paula, not to be outdone, went too, and 
 stood next Betty. 
 
 The guests were sitting or standing about in 
 various stages of apprehension or enjoyment. 
 
 The Muse was forgotten for the moment. 
 Art had given place to Life. 
 
 As the laundryman reached more of his ac- 
 quaintances, and warned them that if they 
 wanted to get any money out of Temp, they 
 had better go to him at once, the creditors' 
 ranks were augmented. 
 
 And as all the creditors were talking at once, 
 and some of the poets, the din was incredible. 
 
 " Well," Paula turned philosophically to 
 Betty, " it can't get any worse, at any rate." 
 
 " No," answered Betty. 
 
 At that moment a louder commotion arose 
 in the hall. 
 
 188 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 THE LANDLORD AND THE CITADEL OF ART 
 
 When the newcomer appeared in the hall- 
 way, beyond the open door, even Temp felt 
 that this was the climax, that the end had been 
 reached. 
 
 For the stern eye and rock-bound chin be- 
 longed to none other than his landlord. 
 
 The landlord was of foreign origin; also, it 
 was to be feared, descended from the emotion- 
 ally Latin. He had a suspicious nature, and 
 even Temp's innocent, boyish face could not 
 convince him now. 
 
 For the landlord had come in haste, and all 
 
 the furniture, perhaps recognizing him, and 
 
 settling old scores, had left its mark upon him. 
 
 And it happened that he had that morning 
 
 donned a new and expensive suit of clothes, of 
 
 a light gray, against which the splotches of 
 
 black, green, and purple shone forth in 
 
 triumph. 
 
 189 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 The landlord glared at his tenant. 
 
 The trapped tenant glared back. As his 
 eye took in the full effect, even Temp, tried 
 as he was, could not restrain his mirth. He 
 smiled. 
 
 That smile was his undoing. 
 
 The decorated landlord shot out an arm in 
 denunciation. His speech was brief: 
 
 " I want my money ! " 
 
 Temp began soothingly to explain. 
 
 The arm waved impatiently. 
 
 " Yes, yes. You said all that. Last month. 
 The month before." 
 
 There was a confirmatorv murmur from the 
 other creditors, who had fallen back, and by 
 common consent given the chief part to the 
 landlord, they themselves falling into line as 
 a Greek chorus. 
 
 " But " began Temp winningly. 
 
 " I'm through with talking," interrupted his 
 opponent. "It ain't your talk I want; it's 
 your money." 
 
 " Look here, I can't pay you to-day, but if 
 you'll wait until — 
 
 >? 
 
 " I know all that. I heard it before. You 
 
 190 
 
THE LANDLORD 
 
 pay me now, now, you hear? I stay right 
 where I am till you do ! " 
 
 Temp looked at him guilelessly. 
 
 " But you'll have to go out for your meals," 
 he suggested. 
 
 " I go out to eat and sleep, and I come back, 
 and I stay here in front of your door," he indi- 
 cated the hallway like a battleground, " until I 
 get all you owe me." 
 
 " Hard on your business," hazarded an 
 amused poet from the background. " How'll 
 it get on without you? " 
 
 " Never you mind about my business," 
 snarled the injured one, glaring into the shad- 
 ows. " I been fooled too often already by this 
 young man. He don't get by me this time." 
 
 " How on earth," hazarded Temp worriedly 
 to the nearest poet, " am I to keep in a proper 
 writing mood, with that old grouch waiting 
 there every day? How'll I concentrate? ' 
 
 "That's so, " answered the nearest one, sym- 
 pathetic and worried. " Sure death to any- 
 one's inspiration. You've got to scare him off 
 someway." 
 
 " Scare him? " 
 
 191 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " Or bluff him, I should say." 
 
 " Well, well," came the menacing growl 
 again. " What you going to do about it? I 
 can't wait all day for you." 
 
 Petra edged over toward Nessa and whis- 
 pered something. Nessa nodded, and they 
 edged toward the landlord. By this time he 
 was standing fairly inside the room. The two 
 watched him warily. 
 
 The enemy's eyes were on Temp. WitH a 
 dart so unexpected that he could not lift a 
 hand to prevent her, Petra was upon him. She 
 gave one feministic push and he was out in the 
 hall. At almost the same instant Nessa shut 
 the door with a slam in his stupefied face, and 
 shot the lock. 
 
 The besieged were triumphant for the mo- 
 ment, but only for a moment. They had, as it 
 were, wounded an elephant, and now were to 
 feel the rush of his charge. 
 
 The landlord rallied his allies about him, and 
 shoulders and, it is feared, convenient furni- 
 ture now began to be hurled against the barri- 
 caded door. It was clear that in another mo- 
 ment the door would give way. 
 
 192 
 
THE LANDLORD 
 
 Temp gave one despairing look toward the 
 window. There was a perfectly feasible exit 
 in that direction, for the fire-escape was un- 
 guarded. Temp wavered toward it for an in- 
 stant, but he thought of his dignity as an artist. 
 It would never do. 
 
 Also Temp had always been one to choose 
 the easiest way. 
 
 There was a rending crash. 
 
 With one convulsive movement Temp 
 darted under the table. Madly shoving aside 
 the folds of the heavy table-cloth which hung to 
 the floor, he crawled under into its dusty shel- 
 ter. The cloth was of that fearful red affected 
 by landladies, and its lurid pattern did not be- 
 come Temp's poetic profile as he thrust his 
 head out again for final instructions. 
 
 " Look here," he explained heatedly, " when 
 that old brute breaks in, tell him I'm out — 
 gone — and you don't know when I'll be back. 
 Maybe he'll go away then, and let us get on 
 with the meeting." 
 
 With one final crash the door gave way, and 
 Temp's head hastily disappeared, just as the 
 avenging landlord, with a roar, burst into the 
 room. 
 
 193 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 WAR TO THE KNIFE 
 
 In through the demolished door the avenger 
 strode, his face black with wrath, his fists 
 clenched. 
 
 " Where is he? " he demanded, peering 
 about, his rage visibly increasing. " Show me 
 where he is! " 
 
 Obviously Bettina had been born for this 
 moment, and she accepted its responsibility 
 with courage in her chin and eyes, in fact, 
 everywhere but her knees. 
 
 " He's gone," she said, her gaze shifting 
 more from instinct than cleverness toward the 
 open window. 
 
 The invader followed Her eyes, and under- 
 stood. His anger leaped like a kitchen fire 
 under kerosene. 
 
 " Good," said he gutturally. " Then some- 
 one else pays me." He looked about at the 
 
 194 
 
WAR TO THE KNIFE 
 
 guests like an auctioneer, but there were no 
 bids. 
 
 Bettina happened to be nearest. 
 
 His bluster changed to a whine. 
 
 " What kind of a way is this? " he wailed. 
 " What kind of a way, I ask you? I come and 
 I come for the rent, and he say ' To-morrow.' 
 And when I come to-morrow, he say, * On 
 Monday sure.' And on Monday he say 
 Wednesday, and Wednesday I wait all day 
 and nobody in! What kind of a way? " 
 
 " But you must give him time to earn 
 the money," remonstrated Bettina bravely. 
 " How can he work and pay you when you're 
 always bothering him? " She was thinking of 
 the book Temp had been writing, off and on, as 
 the mood came, for the past few years. It was 
 an epic, based upon the story of Harold, the 
 last of the Saxon Kings, and would, she felt 
 certain, and so did Temp, make his fortune, be- 
 sides, of course, being a distinct addition to 
 literature. 
 
 But the landlord knew nothing of Harold 
 
 the Saxon. 
 
 " What is he, the swindler? " he went on. 
 
 195 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 His righteous grievance blotted out everything 
 else in the world. " But I make him pay ! 
 You shall see ! If he shall make a fool of me 
 always you shall see ! " Then he remembered 
 bitterly the apex of his woes. His voice went 
 into a shriek. 
 
 " The last time I come," he shrieked angrily, 
 " he shut the door in my face. He say * Go 
 away. I can't see you. I reading a 
 book!'" 
 
 " Writing a book, writing a book," corrected 
 Bettina. 
 
 " Writing a book. What difference? " said 
 the landlord wearily. 
 
 At that instant the table-cloth moved. The 
 landlord searched the faces before him with 
 suspicion. All the instincts of landlords had 
 been aroused in his brain. He was being out- 
 witted. But these people should see. Per- 
 haps he had not meant it before, but now he 
 would make good his threat to stay in that hall 
 until he was paid. He would stay there the 
 rest of that day, and they would see. But first 
 he must see his helper. 
 
 "All right," he growled vindictively. " You 
 
 196 
 
WAR TO THE KNIFE 
 
 see. I come back in five minutes and I stay- 
 here by your door till I get my money." 
 
 With this ultimatum, and with a lingering 
 look at his victims as if loath to leave them, the 
 landlord turned and made his way out, sup- 
 posedly to arrange his business affairs for a 
 long absence. 
 
 The other besiegers trailed down the stairs 
 with the landlord, and left the hall free. 
 
 Bettina, foreseeing that she would face him 
 again, if anyone did, gasped and clutched at 
 Paula. 
 
 "The horrid thing!" exclaimed Petra, 
 breathless with enjoyment of the adventure 
 and anger at the landlord. 
 
 " Isn't he? " cried Nessa, similarly breath- 
 less. 
 
 " Let's put an armchair in the hall for him, 
 the most comfortable one in the studio! He'll 
 be furious ! " 
 
 "And put a magazine in it for him to read," 
 
 advocated Petra enthusiastically. Willing 
 
 hands dragged the heaviest armchair out in the 
 
 corridor, and someone laid a copy of the At' 
 
 lantic Monthly enticingly within it. 
 
 197 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " When he sees it he'll simply give one 
 shriek ! " hazarded Petra interestedly. 
 
 "Dear me!" said Bettina, "they carry 
 knives, don't they? Or something? If only 
 he weren't quite so excitable. I wish I knew 
 what he's going to do! " 
 
 " You will, in a minute," answered Petra 
 hopefully. 
 
 198 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 THE LANDLORD DISCOVERS THE ARMCHAIR 
 
 In those moments of waiting, Bettina did 
 not relive her past life and regret her faults, 
 she relived the past month and regretted 
 Temp's. 
 
 This last humiliation was but the logical out- 
 come of a month of little worries about money 
 and other annoying trifles. She had excused 
 things, overlooked things, forgotten things, but 
 that was over now. This last was too much. 
 She had to come to the end of that ever-widen- 
 ing vein of self-sacrifice within her. It was 
 only a pocket after all. 
 
 The others were chatting around her ; Temp, 
 
 under the table, stuck out his head like a turtle 
 
 and reconnoitered cautiously; but Bettina saw 
 
 and heard nothing. She was buried in her 
 
 own bitter thoughts. She could not live like 
 
 this, she reflected. Temp was as irresponsible 
 
 199 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 as a child. All his friends were dreamy and 
 irresponsible. One needed money to live de- 
 cently and in comfort, and to not one of this 
 heaven-kissing crew did it seem to occur even 
 to try to get a regular job. And Temp was 
 willing to go to her, a girl, for money ! He did 
 not even see that it was degrading. Oh, why 
 had she cast in her lot with such people? Here 
 she was, entangled in the charm of them as a 
 fly in the sticky stuff on fly-paper! And no 
 one to pry her off! Tears of humiliation grew 
 in her eyes. Two driveled like snowballs and 
 rolled down her cheeks. What sort of hyp- 
 notic spell had she been under all this time, 
 anyway? How could she have been so gul- 
 lible? It was all her own fault; and now how 
 should she ever get out of it all again! She 
 had chosen this, and here she was, in the thick 
 of it. Any minute now the landlord would be 
 back. 
 
 And what would Temp ever do without her? 
 It was her duty to Art to guard his helpless- 
 ness from landlords. 
 
 But even the glow of self-sacrifice could not 
 
 keep her from mourning the things she could 
 
 200 
 
THE ARMCHAIR 
 
 never have again. Those things which had 
 seemed to her before the fatal ball to be so 
 monotonous, so dull, so unbearably dreary, be- 
 came, now that they were removed from her, 
 unspeakably desirable and exciting. 
 
 Exciting ! How could she ever have thought 
 that all this mess of plain speaking and high 
 thinking would be exciting? It was taxis, and 
 dinner gowns, and tea at Mary Elizabeth's 
 that were the really exciting things! How 
 wonderful it would be to go to tea at Mary 
 Elizabeth's now! But she couldn't. Never 
 again. How impossible Temp would be there, 
 or in any Fifth Avenue place, with his crum- 
 pled corduroys and crumpled hair ! How hor- 
 rible it would be to be stared at as a freak or a 
 companion to a freak! How pleasant it would 
 be to go there with a dull, inconspicuous, 
 proper young man ! But she had dwelt in that 
 Eden and had deliberately walked out of it 
 and closed the gate. Now she was barred out 
 forever from all these things. 
 
 The girl who marries a free verse poet or 
 
 bobs her hair has a moment of exaltation at 
 
 the time, but sooner or later, the realization will 
 
 201 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 come to her that she is shut out forever from 
 Fifth Avenue and the Drive, and is doomed to 
 spend her life south of Fourteenth. That bit- 
 ter moment had come to Bettina. 
 
 But the dignity of tragedy was denied her, 
 for every instant she expected to hear an out- 
 cry of oaths from the landlord when he came 
 back and discovered the armchair. That was 
 the Avay among the rich in spirit, but poor in 
 pocketbook, defenders of the citadel of Art — 
 life here was not possible to be lived with 
 dignity, one's tragedies were never unadul- 
 terated with sordidness. If one loved poetry 
 enough to put up with defective plumbing, it 
 was all right. But Bettina did not. She 
 knew at last, but had she, alas, learned it too 
 late, that she irreconcilably did not. 
 
 From the outer world, from which her 
 thoughts had cut her off, came a hand laid 
 lightly on her arm and Paula's voice sounded, 
 cheerfully protective in her ear: 
 
 " It'll be over soon. Don't mind. Of 
 
 course it's a shock, but when a chick, after 
 
 being warm and comfortable in its shell, breaks 
 
 out into the amazing world don't you suppose 
 
 202 
 
THE ARMCHAIR 
 
 it's shocked too? You're only running up 
 against reality, as our magazine-writing friends 
 would say. Don't worry. Grief's awfully be- 
 coming. Good for the eyes. Makes 'em big 
 and dark and twice as attractive." 
 
 " Paula, how can you? " 
 
 " Oh, easily. Though you'll not have no- 
 ticed them, there are still splinters of shell 
 clinging about me, too, my dear." 
 
 " No," said Bettina, spiritually taking a 
 loyal step backward. " I was just unnerved 
 for a moment. Matters aren't really as bad 
 as I felt. How silly of me! The thing is to 
 think of how to manage that awful landlord. 
 And this waiting is getting on my nerves. 
 What do you suppose is keeping him so long? 
 I want to get that over with anyway. If he'd 
 only come ! " 
 
 And as if in answer to her invocation, at that 
 instant he did. 
 
 The chatting poets heard his approach and 
 were still. The rest of the invaders stood 
 grouped about the entrance down-stairs, await- 
 ing developments, it seemed. The arch enemy 
 
 came on alone, high dignity and resolve in his 
 
 203 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 firm steps. Petra, quite unnecessarily, put her 
 ear to the keyhole. Temp's head, which had 
 been experimentally thrust out from behind 
 the painfully red table-cloth, disappeared 
 hastily. 
 
 The steps stopped. There was a pause. 
 The landlord had seen the chair ; its significance 
 was sinking in. He was realizing how impu- 
 dently he had been defied. 
 
 Bettina waited, her hands clasped, her lips 
 parted, for his outburst. It did not come. 
 
 His discovery had been followed by an 
 ominous silence. It continued, it grew. Then, 
 still without a word, he turned and walked 
 back down the hall. 
 
 "There!" cried Paula brightly, breaking 
 the silence within the room. " You see! We 
 needn't have minded. He's gone ! " 
 
 " Yes," assented Bettina, dazed. 
 
 "And he didn't say a thing! " 
 
 " No," answered Betty. "And that's what's 
 
 worrying me. It's too good to be true. It 
 
 isn't natural. That man is up to something. 
 
 I don't know what it is, but," her hard-gained 
 
 new knowledge of life asserted itself, " when a 
 
 204 
 
THE ARMCHAIR 
 
 man is too angry to swear, that's the time to 
 be prepared. For he's apt to do any- 
 thing! " 
 
 205 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 BETTINA REVERTS TO TYPE 
 
 " Well, good-bye, Betty," sighed Petra dis- 
 appointedly. " I suppose we may as well go." 
 
 There was a general wrangling of tarns and 
 coats. One saw that the assembly felt it had 
 been cheated of a dramatic climax. It was 
 like an audience leaving the theatre after a 
 play by Giovanitti, the first act of which had 
 contained so many murders that there was no 
 one left to kill in the third. 
 
 Betty herself was relieved but apprehensive, 
 like the mother whose sons came home safely 
 from the war; but brought unexploded shells 
 to use as parlor ornaments. 
 
 But Temp felt that all was well. In the re- 
 action, he laughed and jested and searched for 
 missing hats with more than his usual gay good 
 fellowship. Looking at him now, one would 
 have scorned to think of table-cloths in connec- 
 tion with that profile. 
 
 206 
 
REVERTS TO TYPE 
 
 But just before the first guest and her lan- 
 guid escort were out of the door, a firm, deter- 
 mined trampling, with nothing at all Latin 
 about it, came in its turn up the stairs. Peer- 
 ing out palpitatingly, Betty discovered that it 
 was a blue trampling, and that it had a 
 star. 
 
 Over her shoulder, " Fishes' heaven!" ejacu- 
 lated Don, who rather went in for Rupert 
 Brooke, " It's a policeman! " 
 
 It was. And not the jovial kind. It was a 
 grim one. 
 
 "What — what does he want?" quavered 
 Betty, who knew very well, but who had been 
 brought up to see the sunny side of things. 
 
 " Me! " cried Temp, with a flash of insight 
 and a pictorial groan — a sort of guttural sigh 
 illustrated by a bitter wave of the hand. 
 
 " My word," breathed the best-dressed poet, 
 delightedly. " My word ! " 
 
 Proudly the landlord walked beside the law 
 that by a wave of his hand — a number of 
 waves, to be exact — he had made visible. 
 
 "Now, what's all this?" demanded the po- 
 liceman sternly, as he and his cicerone reached 
 
 207 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 them. " You've got a crowd down on the 
 sidewalk at your door. What do you mean by 
 it? " He glared impartially. 
 
 He was guided to Temp by the landlord's 
 accusing finger. 
 
 " What's all this I hear about you, young 
 man? " His vocabulary lacked variety, but he 
 seized Temp's shoulder in a grip that supplied 
 the appeal his speech lacked. 
 
 The landlord, frenzied by the presence of his 
 foe, shouted and danced his accusations over 
 again from the beginning. 
 
 The creditors, as though they had been wait- 
 ing in the wings for their cue, had now become 
 a murmuring mass in the background again. 
 They were coming cautiously a little farther 
 up the steps. 
 
 " Well, well," impatiently prodded the po- 
 liceman, " what have you got to say for your- 
 self, young fellow? " 
 
 The guardian of the non-poets of the world 
 
 looked at Temp keenly and appraisingly. He 
 
 knew his type well enough to " size him up." 
 
 He wasn't the kind whom debts would keep 
 
 from a good night's sleep. He would be just 
 
 208 
 
REVERTS TO TYPE 
 
 as apt as not to leave town any day, and sin- 
 cerely forget about them. 
 
 It seemed to Bettina that she had never seen 
 such a large policeman before. It really wasn't 
 fair of the mayor to have them quite so big. 
 It was too much like loading the dice. There 
 was no human kindness in him, that was cer- 
 tain. 
 
 Bettina gave a faint moan and hid her face 
 in her hands. Paula led her to the back of the 
 room, away from the scene of action, and pat- 
 ted her shoulder as indefatigably and with as 
 correct an interpolation of " There, there," as 
 any gray-haired mother in a thirty years ago 
 melodrama. 
 
 Betty sobbed inconsolably and saw nothing 
 for some seconds. The wrangling went on. 
 
 Paula kept a firm hand on Bettina' s fluffy 
 head so that she might not lift it suddenly and, 
 seeing Temp's mournful face, go again to his 
 rescue. 
 
 All might even yet have been well for Temp, 
 
 had not the poets in the back of the room had 
 
 that lively curiosity about life which is essential 
 
 to the artist. 
 
 209 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 They pushed. And as they pushed, the 
 helpless ones directly in front of them pushed, 
 and the movement of the mass was communi- 
 cated to each particle. So it was that the 
 front row, shoved by those behind, was really 
 not accountable for its staggerings. 
 
 At this juncture Temp, in making a mild 
 defense, was seized with his fatal histrionic 
 need for gesture, and thrust out his arm in a 
 graceful movement to emphasize what he was 
 saying. 
 
 At this moment the nearest poet stumbled 
 against Temp, and sent the extended and as- 
 tonished arm squarely into the face of the too- 
 near landlord. 
 
 Instantly there was an outcry from the wait- 
 ing ones below, and the policeman, his softened 
 moment passing, seized the bewildered Temp. 
 
 " That'll be enough of that, young man," 
 he commented grimly. Temp's explanations 
 were lost in the confusion. 
 
 A prolonged wail broke from Betty. 
 
 " They're taking him to jail, they're taking 
 
 him to jail!" she cried in despair, and forced 
 
 her way through the crowd to stand beside him. 
 
 210 
 
REVERTS TO TYPE 
 
 The landlord was grossly triumphant, satis- 
 fied. Now this upstart would see what the law 
 would do to people that acted so. 
 
 " Don't let them take him! " appealed Bet- 
 tina brokenly. 
 
 From below came the sound of voices, femi- 
 nine and unmistakably derived from above 
 Fourteenth Street. The creditors parted, and 
 up-stairs and past the policeman came two 
 sprightly, well-groomed shimmers. 
 
 "Ruth! "cried Betty. 
 
 " Nadine! " she shrilled again. 
 
 " Month's up," vouchsafed Nadine briefly. 
 " Here we are." 
 
 " Oh," cried Betty hysterically, putting her 
 head on Nadine's shoulder and weeping, this 
 time voluptuously, luxuriantly, in an access of 
 peace and well-being. She knew that all was 
 now well, Temp was saved. 
 
 " Have you got some money with you? " she 
 asked, not dreaming of a disappointment. Of 
 course they had, and that would make every- 
 thing right. " How much have you? " 
 
 " Not a cent," answered Nadine cheerfully, 
 
 turning her purse inside out. 
 
 211 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 "You, Ruth?" asked Betty, hope still 
 strong in her. 
 
 "None," Ruth shook her head. "We've 
 been shopping, and only kept bus fare." 
 
 Betty burst into a louder wail, devoid of all 
 belief in providence, Allah, fate or luck. 
 
 212 
 
. . ..-* 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 BETTINA RETURNS TO THE FOLD 
 
 The stillness which had fallen on the com- 
 pany with the arrival of reinforcements was 
 broken. The policeman laid his hand on 
 Temp's arm firmly, resolved to waste no more 
 time. 
 
 Then Bettina harked back to her happy 
 past. Once and for all she knew what she had 
 given up. 
 
 " Oh, if William Clark were only here ! " she 
 exclaimed, out of the longing of her tortured 
 heart. 
 
 " He is," said Nadine. 
 
 Betty started violently. She stopped in the 
 middle of a sob. 
 
 " What did you say? " 
 
 " Yes," answered Nadine, still not realizing 
 
 just what all this was about, " yes, he came 
 
 down with us." 
 
 213 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 "William!" 
 
 " He said he'd wait and let us come in first/ ' 
 explained Ruth. 
 
 " How like William ! " Betty almost smiled 
 as she remembered all his scrupulous sym- 
 pathy. She drew a breath of relief. After 
 all, that was what she craved. She wanted to 
 be taken care of. She had seen enough of ad- 
 venture, she never wanted to hear of romance 
 again. Bettina had reverted to type. Just a 
 little home of her own, and a husband like Wil- 
 liam — that was all she asked of life. 
 
 But did William still want her? She shiv- 
 ered. 
 
 Temp and the policeman were leaving, 
 Temp too bewildered still to even think of 
 Bettina. 
 
 " If he'd only come! " Bettina clasped her 
 hands in supplication to the god of coincidence. 
 
 " Here he is ! " cried Ruth. 
 
 And calmly, fastidiously, courteously, in 
 came William. 
 
 With a wild bound Betty clasped her arms 
 
 about his neck. 
 
 " Oh, William! I've made up my mind! 
 
 214 
 
 >> 
 
RETURNS TO THE FOLD 
 
 Then with a sudden change of tone, " How 
 much money have you? " 
 
 "Bettina," said William fondly. Then, 
 vaguely, " Money? " 
 
 Betty, with the help of the landlord, the 
 policeman, and the poets, explained the situa- 
 tion. 
 
 With one arm about the still sobbing Betty, 
 who was crying now from happiness, and the 
 other hand in his pocket, William ascertained 
 what the views of the injured were in regard to 
 reparation. All were satisfied at last, even to 
 the least supers in the mob, and low in the 
 street, and loud on the stairs, the last sound 
 died away. 
 
 "Take me away! Take me away!" cried 
 Betty, clinging wildly to William's arm, and 
 sympathetically coddled by Ruth and Na- 
 dine. 
 
 The policeman, who had also been satisfied 
 pecuniarily, had discreetly melted away into 
 the dim silence of the stairs. 
 
 Temp stood disheveled and still, in a stupor 
 
 of bewilderment, not realizing, as yet, that the 
 
 cloud of misfortune had traveled on. 
 
 215 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " Take me away! " cried Betty, more poign- 
 antly and dismally. 
 
 At this Temp started and came to himself, 
 but when he looked at the tableau before him, 
 he realized that the forces of law, order, and 
 stupidity, were against him, and that genius 
 had lost one more engagement in the never- 
 ending battle between the bourgeois and the 
 intellectual. 
 
 He did not attempt to make a defense. He 
 realized his sins of borrowing, and for the first 
 time had the grace to feel ashamed of himself. 
 He had despised William Clark, but now he 
 appreciated, mournfully, but justly, the law- 
 yer's sterling qualities. Clark was a sturdy 
 oak and a safe refuge, but what was there in 
 himself, Temp, of safety and refuge, for a 
 clinging maiden? 
 
 " I want to go home! " said Bettina. 
 
 Ruth looked superciliously about the studio, 
 and was not favorably impressed by the tan- 
 gled mass of coal, finery and poets. She might 
 even have been said to sniff. 
 
 Nadine, on the contrary, found her sur- 
 roundings romantic. 
 
 216 
 
RETURNS TO THE FOLD 
 
 " How interesting!" she exclaimed to Betty, 
 tucking back her veil and preparing for a stay. 
 
 Bettina gave one agonized look, which swept 
 the debris. 
 
 "No! No! No!" she cried. 
 
 The rebellion, which had been so remorse- 
 fully put down in Betty's heart, now broke out 
 in all its violence. All the grievances which 
 she had been nursing, through these four 
 weeks, clamored to be heard. She walked a 
 step away, and unconsciously struck a dra- 
 matic attitude, holding out her hand, as if to 
 command silence. She had caught dramatic 
 attitudes from Temp, and the white corpuscles 
 of defense had not been strong enough to repel 
 the invading germs of the disease. 
 
 " I feel," said Bettina, " that if I heard 
 about Casey Jones once more I should commit 
 murder." 
 
 " This is a singing army," she said grimly, 
 
 " and I know the words by heart. I have 
 
 heard them, over and over, night and day. All 
 
 the songs in the little red book. I have heard 
 
 so much about ' Pie in the Sky ' that I never 
 
 want to see a piece of it on earth again." 
 
 217 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 No one interrupted her. Temp stood as if 
 frozen by this blasphemy. 
 
 " Oh, Nadine," she cried, " how good it will 
 be to get out of this again ! " 
 
 " But it is exciting here," remonstrated Na- 
 dine. 
 
 Bettina and William were withdrawn a lit- 
 tle from Temp and his group of friends. 
 
 " Yes! Romantic! " breathed Ruth, but at 
 that Bettina's rebellion burst bounds. 
 
 " It's dreary, dull, boring," she declared. 
 " I couldn't have stood this another dav, it was 
 so tiresome, so monotonous! Oh, William, I 
 will be engaged to you again. I am sorry I 
 was so selfish ! " Then her two hands went up 
 to his shoulders, and with all the sincerity of 
 her restless youth in her tones, she breathed: 
 
 " How very exciting it will be to marry a 
 conservative ! " 
 
 Then the two went softly down the stairs, 
 followed by Ruth and Nadine, and out into the 
 sunshine of the Square. 
 
 In the studio the silence which their going 
 
 had made was broken by Temp, giving a great 
 
 sigh — who could say whether of despair or re- 
 
 218 
 
RETURNS TO THE FOLD 
 
 lief. He held his graceful arms above his head 
 and yawned. Then suddenly the well-known 
 fire leaped into his eyes, and dragging toward 
 him a little table, he pulled a few crumpled 
 sheets of paper from his pocket, and a pencil 
 from the hand of the nearest poet. He seated 
 himself on a trunk, and prepared to write. 
 
 He ran his fingers through his hair, in a fine 
 frenzy. " Oh ! It's good to be alone again, 
 and to work! I can do it now, my epic." 
 
 Then in a subdued voice, as he remembered 
 Bettina, he added philosophically: " Perhaps 
 it was the best thing after all." And he mused, 
 in a tone composed of a little contempt, and 
 much mournfulness, " Once a bourgeois, al- 
 ways a bourgeois." 
 
 219 
 
CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 BETTINA AND THE BALCONY SCENE 
 
 With his hand tightly on her arm, William 
 led Betty firmly out to the Brevoort, where 
 they found a taxi idling about. 
 
 The driver was inside, following the custom 
 which used to prevail at resting places showing 
 the sign " Refreshments for Man and Beast." 
 Only now that horses have gone out and ma- 
 chines come in, the man and beast are so often 
 the same person. 
 
 The driver was secured, and the four packed 
 into the rather small and dusty space which 
 would better have served two, and those two 
 affectionately inclined. 
 
 But Betty did not even know she was being 
 
 crowded. She was unconscious of the muddy 
 
 condition of the floor and the dusty state of the 
 
 seats. She was perfectly silent, which was an 
 
 unusual state for her. 
 
 Ruth and Nadine insisted on being set down 
 
 220 
 
THE BALCONY SCENE 
 
 at Altaian's to shop, so the two had the car to 
 themselves. Then William knew why Bettina 
 had been silent. She had been crying beneath 
 her veil ever since they started. Now she 
 burst into real sobs and wept as if her heart 
 would break. 
 
 "What's this? Betty! Why? Oh, what 
 is it? " He was in a fever of anxiety. " Tell 
 me what's wrong! " 
 
 " I'm only crying for happiness ! " explained 
 Betty, with sniffs between words. 
 
 " Oh," William patted her shoulder compla- 
 cently and smiled pleasantly. He liked per- 
 sonal compliments. 
 
 " Yes, I thought — I thought I should never 
 see a taxi again ! " 
 
 " Oh! " William stiffened. But he had to 
 be human, for the next minute her fingers slid 
 above his collar edge and she sighed approv- 
 ingly. 
 
 " It isn't that their collars are dirty," she ex- 
 plained plaintively. " It's that they don't care 
 whether they're dirty or not." 
 
 Then William cautiously put an arm about 
 
 her in awkward, brotherly comforting. 
 
 221 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " There are lots of uses for a taxi/' mused 
 Betty in a low tone, " but," she added, " I 
 didn't think anyone from Boston would know 
 them." 
 
 William removed his arm, self-conscious, but 
 the comforting was still there in his quiet eyes. 
 
 Betty gave a great sigh of relief, as a ship 
 might sigh, if ships ever did so express their 
 feelings, upon coming safely into harbor, after 
 journeying on a sea, sudden and perplexing 
 and quite beyond the simple understanding of 
 ships. 
 
 Bettina began her trial month with William 
 immediately. Then ensued for her one of 
 those perfect periods of life, which, when they 
 happen to people, make them wonder what 
 bolt from the blue is threatening. Their hap- 
 piness is so great that they know it cannot last. 
 
 Bettina knew it could not. Day after day 
 she shivered apprehensively. But the month 
 wore on and every hour of it was more pleasant 
 than the last. 
 
 After the first glow of being rescued had 
 passed, she had decided that after all, though 
 she felt almost certain in her own mind, she 
 
 222 
 
THE BALCONY SCENE 
 
 would go on with her plan, and try out Wil- 
 liam, as scheduled. It really was only scien- 
 tific, and wise. Besides, she did not want to 
 stop her experiment in the middle of it. She 
 had put her hand on the plow, and she would 
 not draw back. 
 
 William still objected, but only in his heart, 
 so Bettina was not at all disturbed. If people 
 did what she wanted, she never troubled her 
 head about whether they wished to or not. 
 
 And, of course, William could not help see- 
 ing how logical was her course. She explained 
 it all to him so often. 
 
 And to Nadine and Ruth also, for she was 
 again in their world. They hovered about her 
 constantly and the three had many discussions 
 concerning Bettina's theories. They all were 
 forced to agree about this particular theory — 
 it had worked. There was no doubt whatever 
 about that. 
 
 When the month was nearly over, Bettina 
 already was discussing a tentative date for her 
 wedding. It was to take place about two 
 weeks later, and the girls were all busy em- 
 broidering for the trousseau. 
 
 223 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 It was to be a very quiet wedding, they had 
 decided, but it soon became apparent that with 
 people who had as many relatives, and whose 
 relatives had as many ramifications and obli- 
 gations as William Clark and the lateral 
 Clarks, there was no such thing as a quiet wed- 
 ding. 
 
 However, Betty was not dismayed. Her 
 recent experience with artistic poverty made 
 her unduly avid of social pomp and splendor. 
 There was a time when she would have pre- 
 ferred a registry office and a wedding in the 
 sight of God ; but now she insisted upon a cere- 
 mony, in the sight of all Manhattan; not to 
 speak of the portion of Philadelphia, and 
 Walla Walla, Wash., which had come to see 
 Cousin William married. 
 
 Bettina hardly noticed when the month was 
 
 up, as her decision was naturally already made. 
 
 She had learned what it was to be comfortable, 
 
 to have not a care in the world. She drew a 
 
 deep breath of thankfulness when she realized 
 
 from what a mistaken step William had saved 
 
 her. What a doom would have been hers ! No 
 
 resounding and terrifying doom upon the hills 
 
 224 
 
THE BALCONY SCENE 
 
 clutching at one of Dunsany's beautifully cos- 
 tumed shepherds could have held a candle to it. 
 Well, this showed the value of making a thor- 
 ough test. If she hadn't done that she might 
 have married Temp ! 
 
 For the two weeks following the fateful 
 month, Bettina, Ruth, and Nadine lived in a 
 mad whirl of incipient lingerie; urgent dress- 
 makers ; and rapidly arriving dessert forks and 
 berry spoons. 
 
 At last came the day of the wedding. It 
 was to take place at the home of a well-to-do 
 and extremely conservative aunt of William's. 
 
 She had Bettina up to dinner, some two 
 weeks before, when the engagement was an- 
 nounced, and had examined her in detail, and 
 severely, in order to ascertain for herself 
 whether or not she would be a suitable wife for 
 William. 
 
 Bettina, being very frightened and shy, 
 
 naturally seemed, at the moment, the meek and 
 
 mouse-like creature that was her ideal. Aunt 
 
 Sybil, therefore, entered into the preparations 
 
 of the wedding with her customary vigor. 
 
 From wedding-cake boxes to white ribbons 
 
 225 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 and orchids, everything was correct. As the 
 hour for the ceremony drew near, the guests 
 surged in. The large drawing-rooms had 
 been thrown together. At the flower-embed- 
 ded platform, the minister was already wait- 
 ing. The soprano hum of women's voices, 
 with the occasional bass of their escorts, filled 
 the rooms, and grew louder, and, to Bettina, 
 in a hurried reconnoitering visit to the top of 
 the stairs, more menacing. It seemed to her 
 that all New York was there. Still, why 
 should she mind? She wanted to be married, 
 and to William Clark. She had deliberately 
 chosen him. Then why should she feel this 
 sudden sinking of the heart — this premonition 
 — this panic? 
 
 "Bettina!" Ruth had darted out of her 
 room, and clutched her by the arm. " You're 
 only half dressed. Don't you know that we 
 must hurry? What are you doing? " 
 
 " Nothing," said Bettina meekly. 
 
 Ruth pulled her back into the cluttered bed- 
 room, scolding all the way. 
 
 The other helpers had gone, leaving only 
 
 Ruth and Nadine, to give the finishing touches 
 
 226 
 
THE BALCONY SCENE 
 
 to Bettina's veil, and to see that she had her 
 shower bouquet and prayer-book. 
 
 Ruth was as tearful as a mother is supposed 
 to be on such occasions. It was not in Ruth's 
 nature to refrain from doing the conventional 
 thing, in any of the crises of life. Also she 
 gloried in crises. A funeral would have suited 
 her better than a wedding, but lacking a fu- 
 neral, she was prepared to enjoy the wedding 
 to the utmost. 
 
 Therefore she took out her tissue handker- 
 chief and wept broken-heartedly. 
 
 " Darn it, Ruth! " Nadine let go the folds 
 of the veil long enough to shake her vigorously. 
 
 We're late already ! You fasten her slip- 
 pers ! " At this moment there was a knocking 
 at the door and an urgent voice slipped through 
 the crack: 
 
 "Girls! Girls! Are you nearly ready? 
 Everybody's here." 
 
 Nadine swung Rettina around facing the 
 luxurious, full-length mirror. " There," she 
 said, " you're finished," and as she looked at 
 the vision herself, she gave a gasp. " Why, 
 you're perfect ! " she exclaimed, startled. 
 
 227 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 Betty had never looked so lovely. Even 
 Ruth, though she hated to admit it, had to 
 agree. 
 
 " I am the happiest girl in the world," Bet- 
 tina said with profound conviction, the tears 
 starting to her eyes in her earnestness. 
 
 " If you hadn't said that, it wouldn't have 
 been a real wedding," remarked Nadine. 
 " Every bride has to say it. It's as necessary 
 as the * I do ! ' " 
 
 " Other brides may say it," answered Betty 
 serenely. " But with me it's true. You see, 
 I have something else beside the wedding to 
 make me particularly satisfied. To-day vin- 
 dicates all my theories, my beliefs. I'm like a 
 naturalist, a surgeon, an inventor, who's staked 
 his life on a certain thing being true, and at 
 last has proved it. Do you remember the day 
 I told you about my theory? I said I'd make 
 a husband test, and I have. I said it would 
 work, and you didn't believe it, and it has! ' 
 
 " Yes," Nadine was obliged to admit, " it 
 seems to have." 
 
 "Seems!" 
 
 " Well, it really has, then." 
 
 228 
 
THE BALCONY SCENE 
 
 99 
 
 " Of course it has. It couldn't fail. The 
 theory was sound. Confess now, I was right." 
 
 " Yes, you were," said Ruth, and: 
 
 " Yes," said Nadine. 
 
 Bettina beamed. She preened herself like 
 a peacock puffed up with pride, as if she her- 
 self had invented marriage. 
 
 " Every girl should do what I have," added 
 Betty earnestly, " and then she couldn't make 
 a mistake. If I hadn't done this, I'd certainly 
 have married Temp, and what an awful mis- 
 take that would have been ! 
 
 " Yes, it would have. 
 
 " So, you see, I simply made the test and 
 found Temp wasn't the man for me and Wil- 
 liam was, and " she swung round in her 
 
 wedding dress, posed like a statue, bowed and 
 laughed, " All's well that ends well." 
 
 " Yes, but it isn't ended yet," observed Na- 
 dine, in her impersonal way. 
 
 " What do you mean? " 
 
 " Simply that I don't trust these new- 
 fangled methods of trying to get ahead of 
 Cupid, of trying to dodge marrying the wrong 
 
 man. It's too good to be true. It can't be 
 
 229 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 done. Every girl marries the wrong man. 
 She always has and always will. She may 
 make a husband test, but she won't abide by it." 
 
 " It's no use looking before you leap; you're 
 apt to land in the same place anyhow." 
 
 "Nadine!" 
 
 " I'm not telling about you, Betty. I'm 
 talking about the average young woman." 
 
 " Girls! " came the agonized whisper at the 
 door again. " You've a minute more, but 
 that's all ! " 
 
 " We must go," Ruth! suggested importantly 
 to Nadine. " It's always the custom to leave 
 the bride to herself for a moment. They pray, 
 I think." 
 
 " Oh dear, no ! Don't leave me," cried Bet- 
 tina, clutching at an arm of each. " I can't go 
 down unless you are here to push me ! " 
 
 Nadine half yielded, but Ruth, with cen- 
 turies of austere, home-making instincts firmly 
 imbedded in her feminine mind, was adamant. 
 
 " No! " she said. " We must leave her by 
 
 herself, if it's only for a second. It's the 
 
 proper thing to do. Come, Nadine ! " 
 
 Nadine, rather reluctantly, allowed herself 
 
 230 
 
THE BALCONY SCENE 
 
 to be coaxed through the door. She and Ruth 
 already had on their bridesmaids' dresses of 
 jade georgette, and had finished their own ar- 
 rangements, even to the last fluff of powder on 
 their noses, before going to Betty. Now they 
 waited solemnly and rather uneasily, at the end 
 of the corridor for her, as they would have to 
 attend her down the stairs, and through the 
 parlors to the platform where they were to de- 
 liver her over to William Clark. 
 
 As they waited they looked down at the 
 chatting crowd, at the sea of color and fra- 
 grance and sound. 
 
 " No wonder," said Ruth, quietly, " that 
 Betty is glad to come back to all this after that 
 untidy, terrible studio." 
 
 " Um-m, yes," assented Nadine, somewhat 
 doubtfully. 
 
 Left behind in her room, Betty stood for a 
 
 moment, with panic-stricken eyes, then since 
 
 she was directly in front of the mirror and 
 
 could hardly avoid the vision of her white satin 
 
 self, she was seized with unwilling and startled 
 
 admiration. 
 
 What a perfectly beautiful girl! Surely 
 
 231 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 this could not be she. How frightfully be- 
 coming weddings were ! One should have them 
 frequently, she reflected, like shampoos and 
 mud baths, to improve one's looks. 
 
 Then her glance fell on the white kid prayer- 
 book in her hand, and her eyes grew solemn. 
 There was a pause in which she thought with 
 awe of the responses she would be making 
 within the next few moments ; and the lifelong 
 chains with which those words would bind her. 
 Still they were happy chains. How glad, how 
 grateful she was for that! How wonderful 
 that she was marrying William, who would al- 
 ways take care of her, and make her life com- 
 fortable and sure and placid! 
 
 How thankful she was that it was not Temp 
 she was chaining herself to! What a terrible 
 thing that would have been! She shivered as 
 she thought of it. What a narrow escape! 
 How nearly her venturesome impulsive ways 
 had come to getting her into trouble! But 
 that was over now ; she had been taught a les- 
 son. She would never let her impulses and 
 wishes sway her again. 
 
 How good she would be! How well she 
 
 232 
 
THE BALCONY SCENE 
 
 would fulfill her position, like Aunt Sybil, gra- 
 cious, calm. 
 
 As she stood thinking of this she heard a 
 slight sound behind her at the window. She 
 had stood at the window this morning, she had 
 even walked out on the little balcony to which 
 it opened, and listened to the birds singing in 
 the few feet of lawn which Aunt Sybil's house 
 boasted. It was remote, a small bit of garden, 
 for it was at the back of the house, with small 
 windowless buildings rising on all sides. 
 
 Remote! She remembered that now, and 
 was afraid. Who was at the window? Could 
 it be a burglar? It must be! And her pearls 
 — William's gift to her — an heirloom, already 
 clasped around her neck! And in the room 
 were other wedding presents! Down-stairs, 
 too, the array of silver with the donor's cards 
 would probably be almost unwatched, while 
 even the servants peered at the ceremony. 
 
 She stood tense, rigid, turning over these 
 possibilities in her mind. She had not heard 
 a sound since that first unmistakable one, but 
 she was certain that someone stood at the win- 
 dow behind her. She knew it by that sixth 
 
 '233 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 sense with which one feels the presence of an- 
 other person in a darkened and supposedly 
 empty room. 
 
 If he would only move again ! 
 
 She pretended to be doing something to her 
 hair, but, except for her moving fingers, her 
 whole body was tense Math listening. But 
 there came no sound. All the world seemed to 
 be still. 
 
 Then a taxicab gurgled in the street below, 
 and broke the spell. At the same instant she 
 heard the stealthy, unmistakable rustling that 
 told of the moving of that person behind her. 
 
 Frightened into courage, she whirled round, 
 to see a man standing in the open window, 
 about to spring into the room. 
 
 234 
 
CHAPTER XXX 
 
 TEMP AS A GOOD PROVIDER 
 
 At the sight of the man at her window, she 
 stepped back against the dressing-table, weak 
 and trembling, her original fear driven out by 
 a real relief and a humorous shock. 
 
 " Temp! " she gasped. 
 
 " Yes. It's I," he said, stooping and ex- 
 citedly stepping down into the room. He 
 started toward her. 
 
 "Don't! ''she cried. 
 
 He stopped. 
 
 " What are you doing here? " 
 
 " I wanted to be at your wedding." 
 
 " The wedding's down-stairs." 
 
 " Yes," he answered, gloomily. " I passed 
 the front door. I saw it arriving." 
 
 "And you weren't invited, anyway." There 
 always had been a dare-devil fascination about 
 Temp. He was of the tribe of the ne'er-do- 
 
 235 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 wells, the bandits who steal from the staid, illu- 
 sions, conventions, customs walls instead of 
 money, and every girl loves an outlaw. But 
 Bettina, experienced now, steeled her heart. 
 
 " I know I wasn't," his tone was justifiably 
 aggrieved. " Why didn't you? Were you 
 afraid of me? Afraid I'd kidnap you at the 
 last minute? " 
 
 She did not answer. 
 
 " Because that's what I came for," he fin- 
 ished quietly. 
 
 " Dear me," said Bettina. Then she re- 
 membered the proper words. " How dare 
 you?" she demanded. "This is no time for 
 joking." 
 
 " I'm not joking." 
 
 " Oh, go away! Go away! Can't you see 
 you're intruding? I ought to be praying this 
 minute! " 
 
 " I should think you would pray. You need 
 to. I can quite understand any girl about to 
 marry William Clark praying for help." 
 
 Betty had a sudden vision of William's cor- 
 rect, stiff countenance, and could not help smil- 
 ing herself. For which lapse on her part she 
 
 236 
 
A GOOD PROVIDER 
 
 naturally punished Temp. She stamped her 
 white satin foot. 
 
 "Are you going? " she demanded, exasper- 
 ated. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then " 
 
 " With you." He looked like a magazine 
 hero, soulful and determined, Temp always 
 looked like something out of a book — but such 
 a very readable book ! 
 
 ' Oh, don't keep on with that! It's non- 
 sense and you know it is. Oh, Temp, do go! 
 I'm getting angry with you. Don't make me 
 be cross with anyone on my wedding day ! " 
 
 " I never want to see him again," she had 
 said to Nadine and Ruth, in this very room, 
 only a few minutes ago. And she had meant it. 
 How fervently she had meant it ! 
 
 And now here he was ! She wished that he 
 had not come. Did she, she wondered. We-el, 
 at any rate, she knew she ought to wish it. 
 
 Not that she was at all afraid of his power 
 over her. Oh, no ! He had no power over her. 
 None at all. She touched her wrist experi- 
 mentally. Her pulse wasn't hurried, her heart 
 
 237 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 6i 
 
 was not thumping loudly. He couldn't affect 
 even her pulses, much less her judgment. She 
 was only a little sorry for him, that was all. 
 
 " Temp, please go," she repeated. " Some- 
 one might find you here! " 
 
 " Bettina, try me again! " He had taken a 
 quick step forward and was speaking hurriedly 
 with that earnestness which made him so pic- 
 turesque. 
 
 I did try." 
 
 But don't you know I won't be like that 
 again? I see everything now. It was your 
 going woke me up." 
 
 " Don't," she said, but she admitted to her- 
 self that penitence was frightfully becoming to 
 him. 
 
 " I couldn't let it happen, let you marry 
 him " He threw his head back dramatic- 
 ally and the sunlight haloed it like an obedient 
 spotlight. 
 
 " You can't stop me," said Betty firmly. 
 
 More memories rolled in on him. " Oh, I 
 
 know it was terrible for you — everything, but 
 
 especially I ! " 
 
 u What's the good of thinking of all that? " 
 
 238 
 
A GOOD PROVIDER 
 
 But she loved seeing him grovel. Being femi- 
 nine, she needed a certain amount of masculine 
 groveling as daily bread. 
 
 He held out his hands pleadingly; his voice 
 was convincing, strong. 
 
 " I'll be different, sure! " he cried. 
 
 "That's the trouble! You've always been 
 different ! If you'd only be alike ! " 
 
 "Alike?" 
 
 " You're different from anything and any- 
 one else in the world. Oh, Temp, why were 
 you made this way? " 
 
 " It is annoying, isn't it? " said Temp sym- 
 pathetically. 
 
 She stamped her foot. "At any rate, I've 
 been annoyed by it all that I am going to in my 
 life," she announced firmly. " Someone else 
 will have to be the one for the next sixty 
 years." 
 
 You just said this wasn't a time for jok- 
 ing. 
 
 " I never was farther from joking in my 
 
 life! I'm in desperate earnest, can't you see? 
 
 I want you to go away and leave me alone. If 
 
 you won't go, I will." Knowing that he would 
 
 239 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 not dare to follow her, she started toward the 
 door leading into the hall. 
 
 His expression was agonized. 
 
 "Bettina! Remember the ball — our first 
 kiss." 
 
 " Remember the gasman." 
 
 " Have you forgotten our strolls in the 
 Square? " 
 
 " No," said Betty briefly. "And I haven't 
 forgotten the landlord either." 
 
 " Well, if you will persist in remembering 
 the wrong things ! " 
 
 Then they both smiled out. 
 
 " Temp, it's no good," explained William 
 Clark's bride kindly. " You see, I'm not ro- 
 mantic any more. I must think of the future. 
 I should marry a good provider. And you 
 know," reproachfully but just, " you know you 
 aren't a good provider." 
 
 " Provider of what? ' demanded Temp. 
 " There are some things that I can provide you 
 with that Clark never could if he lived a thou- 
 sand years." 
 
 "What things?" 
 
 " Well, romance, if you like to call it that." 
 
 240 
 
A GOOD PROVIDER 
 
 " I don't want romance." 
 
 " Yes, you do. Every human being does. 
 It's the one thing you can't live without. 
 Really live. Romance is like salt, so precious 
 that tribes that can't get it go mad. Look at 
 deer and salt licks. Well, people have to have 
 romance served that way for them in chunks, at 
 intervals. Their system needs it." 
 
 ' But I've eaten too much salt. I can't get 
 the taste out of my mouth. And so it's very 
 
 soothing and cooling " She waved her 
 
 hand toward the door that opened on to the 
 stairway leading down to the altar and the end 
 of Betty Howard; and Temperament under- 
 stood. 
 
 Only the boudoir clock answered then. 
 
 After a moment Temp said something very 
 low: "When he kisses vou, when he touches 
 your hand, can he make you feel as I can? " 
 
 Betty shivered in her finery. That was 
 something she had never allowed her real self 
 to ask her practical self — because she knew the 
 answer. 
 
 From her silence Temp knew too. 
 
 " Don't fight it, Betty! " he cried in a ring- 
 
 241 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 ing voice, though carefully lowered for fear of 
 what was on the other side of the door. " We 
 love each other, and it's no good trying to deny 
 it ! Don't you know it's true? " 
 
 Betty stumbled to him, broken, weeping, but 
 restored, whole, fulfilled. They stood facing 
 each otKer, not touching, but his eyes deep in 
 hers. 
 
 The spell of practicalness had left her, and 
 she breathed freely once more. Perhaps the 
 ozone she inhaled was illusions but it was the 
 air she needed to keep her alive. 
 
 242 
 
CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 "so THIS is love! " 
 
 There has, for some time, one understands, 
 been an unsolved mystery about the way of a 
 maid, not only with a man, but with a vote, a 
 pet dog, a golf club, a erochetted tidy, or any 
 other thing she happened to manipulate. 
 
 But really the prevailing idea is most unfair 
 to girls. For if men are tools in their hands, 
 they themselves are but tools in the hand of 
 Something Else. And it is most disturbing to 
 find ourself being whirled about without one's 
 own permission, like a golf stick swung about 
 in space. No one can blame a golf stick for the 
 violence with which it hits the golf balls. In- 
 deed the experience must be bewildering for 
 the club. 
 
 The present experience was bewildering to 
 Bettina. Her practical self had lost after all. 
 And she was glad. How good it was not to 
 have to tell herself she didn't like Temp, to tell 
 
 243 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 it so accurately and circumstantially and with 
 such wealth of corroborating reasons that she 
 believed it herself. 
 
 She still remembered that mass of reasons, 
 she knew that Temp wasn't the man for her, 
 but she knew, too, that she loved him. And 
 she divined that he, too, had been through the 
 same struggle, that he had rebelled against his 
 fate and been conquered. She wasn't his kind 
 and he wasn't hers, but something stronger 
 than themselves drew them. 
 
 " So this is love," said Betty in dismay. 
 
 " I guess so," assented Temp dismally. 
 
 "Oh dear!" wailed Bettina, sitting down 
 limply. 
 
 " Uh-huh," Temp agreed. Then he went 
 on. " It isn't logical. I should marry a radi- 
 cal girl of over thirty who'd mother me, and 
 make our living doing settlement statistics for 
 some social service bureau. And you, of 
 course, should marry William Clark. I should 
 think anyone could see that. Anyone could 
 except this ridiculous blind force that lecturers 
 talk so much about, blast them! And now it's 
 got us!" 
 
 244 
 
" SO THIS IS LOVE! " 
 
 " Just after we've fully decided we don't 
 want each other," agreed Betty mourn- 
 fully. 
 
 " Oh, Temp," she asked hopefully, " don't 
 you think you could forget me? " 
 
 " Know darn well I couldn't," growled 
 Temp. " Tried. My God, you don't think I 
 want to love you, do you? " 
 
 " No, of course not," she interposed sooth- 
 ingly, reaching out and patting his hand. 
 
 " Neither of us want to," she added. 
 
 It was foolish, unpractical for her to care for 
 him, but she did. Madly. It was absurd for 
 him, financially ruinous, to care for her. But 
 he did gloriously. 
 
 " Dear me," said Bettina to herself. She 
 knew now what radicals meant when they 
 talked about how badly the world was gov- 
 erned. 
 
 " Then come, Bettina! " he was begging. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Come! " He seized her hands. 
 
 Bettina pulled them away and put them be- 
 hind her, backing away hastily. 
 
 " Think, oh think, what it would be ! How 
 
 245 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 would we live? I've no money left. And 
 
 99 
 
 you — 
 
 " I'll work my fingers to the bone for you, 
 Bettina," he said, his heart in his eyes. 
 
 " Oh, Temp ! No. You'd let your fingers 
 be chopped off if it would do me any good, for 
 that's something that could be done in an in- 
 stant, and it's dramatic as well — but as to 
 working them to the bone — that would take 
 steady application over a term of months. I'd 
 say — no, Temp, you wouldn't do that ! " 
 
 "Bettina, don't be botanical! You dissect 
 my flowers of language under a microscope. 
 You should shut your eyes and drink in their 
 fragrance instead. But here we stand talk- 
 ing ! " He had a suspicion. 
 
 " You've let me get talking on purpose," he 
 denounced her, " to put me off till it's too 
 late. Once and for all, are you coming with 
 me?" 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " But you said you loved me! " 
 
 " I could if I'd let myself. But it won't do." 
 
 She picked up her bride's bouquet of stiff 
 prim lilies of the valley and her white prayer- 
 
 246 
 
" SO THIS IS LOVE! " 
 
 book, and behind this rampart she faced 
 him. 
 
 " I can't. So good-bye, ,, she said, then her 
 face grew agitated. She waved the shower 
 bouquet frantically, and gestured with the 
 prayer-book toward the open window. 
 
 ' Hurry! " she gasped. " Someone's com- 
 ing!" 
 
 Someone undoubtedly was. 
 
 " Don't let them see you ! " She flung open 
 the door slowly and stood in it, herself and her 
 flowing finery shielding the room, until he 
 should have escaped. 
 
 But his coat caught on a projecting chair 
 arm and pulled him back. It was Temp's luck. 
 
 And so it happened that when an indignant 
 Ruth and Nadine entered they found a still 
 more indignant Temp, making frantic and ter- 
 rified efforts to escape. He was half in and 
 half out of the window when they discovered 
 him, and there he remained, uncertain whether 
 to stay or to go would prove the worse dis- 
 aster. 
 
 The bridesmaids were struck dumb with 
 
 amazement. But Nadine, always self-pos- 
 
 247 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 sessed, came forward pleasantly. " How are 
 you? " she asked. 
 
 " Never felt better and had less/' answered 
 Temp cheerily. 
 
 248 
 
CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 FOR YOU A VIOLET 
 
 But Ruth advanced toward him like a hen 
 protecting her chicks. 
 
 " What are you doing here? " she demanded. 
 " You have no right ! This is an outrage ! " 
 
 She looked so regal in her splendor of ap- 
 parel, and Temp so crestfallen and out of place 
 in his crushed corduroys, that Bettina's sym- 
 pathy was aroused. 
 
 Ruth continued to belabor him. 
 
 Bettina stepped forward impulsively and 
 laid her white-gloved fingers on Ruth's. She 
 could scold Temp herself, but she wouldn't let 
 any other girl do so. Ruth turned at her un- 
 uttered remonstrance. 
 
 " But what is he doing here? " she objected, 
 horror in her tones. " It's your wedding day." 
 
 " That's why," said Bettina. " We're go- 
 ing to be married." She went and stood by 
 Temp. 
 
 249 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " What do you mean? " 
 " But Mr. Clark? What will he say? " 
 " I'd love to hear," answered Bettina can- 
 didly. " But I can't stop to. We must hurry 
 off. We're going to 
 
 >> 
 
 " City Hall," Temp supplied, practical for 
 once. 
 
 At this awful moment, the borrowed church 
 organist, as if diabolically inspired, struck up 
 " Here Comes the Bride." 
 
 The four were stricken. All stood rigid, in 
 the attitude in which the music had surprised 
 them, like a group of living tableaux at a char- 
 ity entertainment. 
 
 " You can't leave now," Nadine whispered. 
 
 " We were sent to get you," Ruth explained, 
 remembering. 
 
 " The flowers, the minister, Aunt Sybil," 
 murmured Ruth. 
 
 " William! " Bettina added with a groan. 
 
 " Let's go !" said Temp. 
 
 "You can't!" Ruth was looking at Bet- 
 tina aghast, seizing Betty's arm and pulling 
 her toward the hall. " They'll all be here in a 
 
 minute to see what's wrong. Lock the door, 
 
 250 
 
FOR YOU A VIOLET 
 
 Ruth," advised Nadine. " You're insane, 
 Betty, quite." 
 
 Ruth went sulkily to lock the door. 
 
 " If you must do it," Nadine promised, 
 " we'll gain all the time we can for you. We 
 won't tell them about Temp and we'll send 
 them in wrong directions. A license doesn't 
 take long, and dear knows the ceremony 
 doesn't, and you'll be out of town before 
 they've a trace." 
 
 Bettina was not listening. She had taken 
 Temp aside and pulled with her immaculately 
 gloved fingers at his corduroy sleeve. Her 
 eyes were fixed on his imploringly, trustingly, 
 desperately. 
 
 " If I come," she begged, knowing well how 
 useless it was and yet being a woman, hoping 
 anyway, " promise you'll change? You'll be 
 different about money? You'll look ahead? 
 Be saving? Count the pennies? " 
 
 " I promise," said Temp truthfully, and 
 
 kissed her hands ; and no woman can disbelieve 
 
 the promise of a man who kisses her hands. It 
 
 is not in nature to. 
 
 " Poor William," said Nadine. 
 
 251 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " Yes," answered Betty, " for Ruth will set 
 her cap for him now. They may be able to use 
 the same wedding cake. Economical." 
 
 "Sh! She'll hear." 
 
 " Do her good." Betty made a grimace. 
 " Yes, I'm hurrying." 
 
 "And now what can I do for you, Betty? ' 
 Nacline might disapprove, but she always 
 helped. 
 
 " My cloak! It will cover everything! " 
 
 But Temp was looking farther ahead. 
 
 He drew Nadine to one side. " Do you 
 happen to have any money about you? ' he 
 whispered anxiously. 
 
 "What! You haven't anything in the 
 world? " 
 
 " Spent my last nickel to come here on the 
 ' L,' " he confessed. 
 
 She emptied her purse into his hand, with its 
 jumble of dimes and quarters. " That will 
 only just pay for the license and taxi," she 
 said. "And this is the only bit I have with 
 me." Fumbling in her blouse she drew forth a 
 cloth pocket and from it a twenty-dollar bill. 
 " Ruth, have you any change with you? ' 
 
 252 
 
FOR YOU A VIOLET 
 
 "Not a cent/' said Ruth. "Didn't even 
 bring a purse, for I knew you'd have carfare, 
 Nadine." 
 
 " This is enough," Temp hastened to assure 
 her. 
 
 " Yes, it will last us a week easily where 
 we're going. We planned it long ago. A 
 quiet village hotel over in Staten Island," said 
 Betty, fastening her long cloak. "And by that 
 time something will have turned up. Temp 
 may sell a story or something. It will keep us 
 till we've time to turn 'round if we're careful. 
 
 "And we are going to be careful now," she 
 sang radiantly. 
 
 "They're coming!" warned Ruth at the 
 door. 
 
 Betty sprang to the window. Temp pulled 
 her through and tenderly guided her down the 
 fire-escape into a new life. 
 
 The deserted bridesmaids listened, quaking, 
 to the footsteps, but they went on past the 
 door. 
 
 " Some servant," said Ruth, relief in her 
 face, then more sternly, " We must go and 
 tell them." 
 
 253 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 " No. Everyone would see us on the stair- 
 case. Let's wait till someone comes." 
 
 " Yes." They were lost in musings. 
 
 " Just when he had demonstrated thor- 
 oughly that he's the worst person in the world 
 for her, she takes him!" Nadine murmured. 
 " She proved her theory, made her test, found 
 out what to do — and then deliberately did the 
 opposite ! " 
 
 Then Ruth gave voice to a truth greater 
 than she knew. 
 
 " Perhaps," she suggested, " she can't help 
 it. Perhaps," she ventured, " women are like 
 that." 4 
 
 Nadine closed her eyes with the calmness of 
 despair. " I shouldn't wonder," she answered, 
 " if you're right." 
 
 Ruth tidily closed the window and picked up 
 the abandoned shower bouquet. 
 
 " Well, after all, it only proves Betty was 
 brave," went on Nadine. " Temp is a high- 
 brow ne'er-do-well. We've always had the 
 ne'er-do-well type with us. The girl of gen- 
 eration-before-last saw the reckless young man 
 
 and cautiously passed by on the other side, but 
 
 254 
 
FOB YOU A VIOLET 
 
 the girl of the twentieth century, bless her 
 heart, takes a chance." 
 
 " No." Ruth wisely shook her head. " It 
 isn't courage. It's just impulse, that's all." 
 
 In the speedy taxi, Temp and Betty were 
 discussing this cyclone that had taken them up 
 and hurled them into space, at least had hurled 
 them into a taxicab stand around the corner. 
 
 " It's love," diagnosed Temp, and Betty put 
 her head on his shoulder trustfully, assured 
 that her husband knew everything. After all 
 her rebelling she was destined to be a spouse 
 after St. Paul's own heart. 
 
 Apart from some difficulty about remember- 
 ing their mothers' maiden names, they found 
 that the license indeed did not take long, and 
 the ceremony was so suddenly over that it left 
 them breathless. 
 
 They were blissfully unconscious of the fact 
 that at the home of Aunt Sybil the organist 
 had played " Here Comes the Bride " three 
 times, but the bride never came. 
 
 Upon that, pandemonium ensued, and Na- 
 
 dine and Ruth found themselves the unwilling 
 
 storm center. 
 
 255 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 Temp and Betty had forgotten even that 
 Aunt Sybil existed, and if anyone had men- 
 tioned William Clark, they would probably 
 have had to rack their brains to recall where it 
 was they had heard that name before. 
 
 The taxi from the City Hall to the Staten 
 Island Ferry took almost the last of Nadine's 
 change, and the ferry tickets quite finished it. 
 
 They were in plenty of time. The boat had 
 just touched. Temp put Bettina on board. 
 
 She held her cloak carefully about her, lest 
 any telltale white satin show. She was sorry 
 she had forgotten her lilies of the valley, but, 
 of course, she would not have wanted them 
 anyway, as they had been bought by William 
 Clark, that splendidly null young man who, 
 Bettina was certain, must have been able to 
 trace his descent back to the most impossible 
 of husbands, King Arthur. 
 
 But she was not thinking of that now. 
 
 How wonderful to be out on the water with 
 
 Temp ! They would pretend they were on an 
 
 ocean voyage together. They would be alone, 
 
 far away from everything but joy, beauty, 
 
 love. 
 
 256 
 
FOB YOU A VIOLET 
 
 And there, over on the island, when the boat 
 touched land, a new life would begin for her, 
 for them. A happy life rooted in security, 
 safety. For Temp was different now. He 
 had promised. He would never live in that 
 careless, lily-of-the-field way again, not keep- 
 ing a penny ahead for the next day. She 
 could not have borne that. But now — how 
 happy she was! 
 
 They had barely stepped on board the boat 
 when Temp exclaimed, " Oh, I wanted to get 
 a paper! Mind, dear? There's time." 
 
 " Hurry! " Newspapers were far from her 
 ken at present, but she knew Temp's queer 
 New York way of not being able to exist with- 
 out them. She waited, standing by the rail, 
 dreaming. 
 
 Temp, with nothing in his thoughts more 
 dangerous than the intention of procuring a 
 newspaper, rushed to the news stand. 
 
 But he had nothing but the twenty-dollar 
 bill, and as he took it out of his pocket, and 
 opened his mouth to ask for his favorite paper, 
 his eye was caught by the florist's display un- 
 fortunately placed next to the news stand. 
 
 257 
 
THE HUSBAND TEST 
 
 At the rail Bettina smiled, dreaming — but 
 her mouth drooped wearily too. 
 
 She was so tired. She wanted so to get a 
 room somewhere, and wash her hands and face, 
 and rest, rest, rest. Well, she would be able 
 to in a few moments. How lucky Temp had 
 that twenty! If she couldn't have rested soon, 
 she felt she would simply die! 
 
 Just in time, Temp sprang, panting with 
 haste, to her side. 
 
 " Your paper? " she opened her lips to ask, 
 but instead gave a gasp of surprise and horror. 
 
 But he did not see. 
 
 Her face went white with dismay. 
 
 But Temp stood, beaming and pleasantly 
 conscious of virtue, like a Boy Scout who has 
 just done his daily good deed. 
 
 His arms were full of fragrant purple vio- 
 lets, oceans and plains of them, masses of blue 
 loveliness and perfume. Yes, he confessed 
 gaily, when taxed. He had spent the whole 
 twenty dollars for violets ! 
 
 Bettina stood turned to stone. What would 
 
 they do — where eat, where go? What could 
 
 they do when the boat touched shore? And 
 
 258 
 
FOB YOU A VIOLET 
 
 worse, ah, worse, this proved that he had not 
 reformed at all. What would their future 
 life be! 
 
 But Temp, beaming and joyful, did not 
 think of that. He was thinking only of her. 
 His worship and adoration shone from his 
 wistful face. 
 
 His soul was in his eyes, and Bettina could 
 not help melting as she looked. 
 
 He held the ocean of violets out to her. " I 
 had to get them for you. They're so like you," 
 he whispered. " So fragile and delicate and 
 sweet." 
 
 259 
 
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