"I wonder whether you can rise to her," she said. "If I were you, I should try. You will be happier--far happier than if you attempt to use her for your own ends, as a contributor to your comfort and an auxiliary to your career. I was afraid--I confess it--that you had married an aspiring, simpering and empty-headed provincial like that Mrs. George Hutchins' whom I met once, and who would sell her soul to be at my table. Well, you escaped that, and you may thank God for it. You've got a chance, think it over. "A chance!" I repeated, though I gathered something of her meaning. "Think it over, said Nancy again. And she smiled. "But--do you want me to bury myself in domesticity?" I demanded, without grasping the significance of my words. "You'll find her reasonable, I think. You've got a chance now, Hugh. Don't spoil it." She turned to Leonard Dickinson, who sat on her other side.... When we got home I tried to conceal my anxiety as to Maude's impressions of the evening. I lit a cigarette, and remarked that the dinner had been a success. "Do you know what I've been wondering all evening?" Maude asked. "Why you didn't marry Nancy instead of me." "Well," I replied, "it just didn't come off. And Nancy was telling me at dinner how fortunate I was to have married you." Maude passed this. "I can't see why she accepted Hambleton Durrett. It seems horrible that such a woman as she is could have married--just for money. "Nancy has an odd streak in her," I said. "But then we all have odd streaks. She's the best friend in the world, when she is your friend." "I'm sure of it," Maude agreed, with a little note of penitence. "You enjoyed it," I ventured cautiously. "Oh, yes," she agreed. "And everyone was so nice to me--for your sake of course." "Don't be ridiculous!" I said. "I shan't tell you what Nancy and the others said about you." Maude had the gift of silence. "What a beautiful house!" she sighed presently. "I know you'll think me silly, but so much luxury as that frightens me a little. In England, in those places we saw, it seemed natural enough, but in America--! And they all your friends--seem to take it as a matter of course." "There's no reason why we shouldn't have beautiful things and well served dinners, too, if we have the money to pay for them." "I suppose not," she agreed, absently. XV.