Five years ago, almost to the day, high up in a city building, in a dainty little room, half office, half _atelier_, a man and a woman had copied an agreement, each for the other, and had sworn an oath ever to remain true to that solemn bond.... She had brought nothing to him, but herself; not even affection. He, on the other hand, had saved her from a life of drudgery by elevating her to a position where, free of the necessity of struggling for a bare existence, she might hope to consummate the fruition of at least a part of her dreams. On her part.... "_Witnesseth: The said Eleanor Owen is at liberty to follow her own inclinations as she may see fit; she is to remain free of any and all responsibilities and restrictions such as customarily attach to the supervision of a household, excepting as she may elect to exercise her wifely prerogatives; being absolutely free to pursue whatsoever occupation or devices she may desire or choose, the same as if she were yet a spinster...._ "_In Consideration of Which: The said Eleanor Owen agrees never so to comport herself that by word or conduct will she bring ridicule.... dishonor upon the name...._" Recollection of it all came to her with a rush; but the words ran together and swam in a maddening blur--the roar from the street below, dull with distance; the hum of the big building, with its faint concussions of closing doors; the air from the open window, not like the sweet prairie air of to-day, but heavy, smoky, typical breath of the town, yet pregnant with the indescribable throb of spring, impossible to efface or to disguise! The compelling intimacy and irrevocability of that memory overwhelmed her, now; a dark, evil flood that blotted out the sunshine of the present. The paper rustled, as the man smoothed it flat with his hand. "Shall I read?" he asked. The woman's face stood clear--cruelly clear--in the sunlight; about her mouth and eyes there was an expression which, from repetition, we have learned to associate with the circle surrounding a new-made grave: an expression hopelessly desperate, desperately hopeless. Of a sudden her chin trembled and her face dropped into her hands. "Read, if you wish"; and the smooth brown head, with its thread of gray, trembled uncontrollably. "Eleanor!" with a sudden vibration of tenderness in his voice. "Eleanor," he repeated. But the woman made no response.