"Do you think it is good painting?" he inquired. "I know very little about painting," she evaded. "We must begin your art education, Jane." The day of the reception, Jerry took luncheon at the Morton house, and spent the early afternoon directing the proper placing for the portrait. He called Jane on the 'phone, explaining that he would not have time to come to the studio for her, and asking her to meet him at the tea. Unfortunately for Jerry's plans, just as Jane had completed her costume for this most distasteful party, Martin Christiansen arrived, and in the joy of seeing him, she forgot everything else. "It is good to see you," she said. "And you. But you are very gorgeous," he added, with the tribute of his eyes. "How does life run these days, Jane Judd?" "Full to the very banks. I'm at work again." "Good. But not here?" "No. I kept the old room at Mrs. Biggs's. I go every morning while Jerry is at work." "He asks no questions?" "None so far." "Admirable husband! And what is the opus?" She began to outline the idea of a sustained piece of work, based on her own experience and thoughts. She told her plot dramatically and well. To any one who knew her as the silent Jane, this pulsing creature would have been a marvel. There was something in Christiansen that gave her tongue. She was at ease with him, sure of complete understanding. They argued, they planned, they debated points of psychology, they were perfectly absorbed and unaware of time. Into this meeting came Jerry, angry as he could possibly be at Jane's defection, but infuriated when he saw the cause. "Jerry!" she exclaimed, at sight of him. "Don't let me interrupt you, pray. Good-afternoon, Mr. Christiansen." "But the tea isn't over?" "Naturally. It is after seven." "I had no idea it was so late," said Christiansen, rising. "Have I kept you from some social duty, Mrs. Paxton?" "No doubt she was glad of an excuse," laughed Jerry forcedly. "Miss Morton had a tea to exhibit Jerry's portrait. It was dreadful of me to forget," she said earnestly. "The fault is entirely mine, the apologies must be mine, Mr. Paxton. I have kept your wife so besieged by my talk that she has had no chance to escape." "No matter at all, I assure you," said Jerry. Christiansen made hasty adieux. "You must believe that I intended to come, Jerry. You see I am dressed for it." "It was a trifle embarrassing when everybody asked for you." "I am so sorry." "You may not be interested in my work, or my friends, but, as my wife, you certainly must show them some respect," he stormed. "I hope I have shown them every respect," she began. "Not at all. You've run away every time a sitter has appeared in this studio, and now you have deliberately insulted Miss Morton." "Oh, Jerry, that's not fair. It was an accident." The telephone rang. "There she is now. What do you expect me to tell her?" "Whatever you like. I should tell her the truth."