Martin Wetherby's handsome mother took brisk and proprietary charge of Jane and shared her laurels happily. "Yes, in_deed_," she beamed, her gray crepe arm through the girl's, "I can tell you, _we're_ pretty proud of her!" She had clearly cast herself already for the role of adoring and devoted mother-in-law, and the Tuesday Club was just as clearly taking the same view of it. Jane, in her wine-red velvet and her glowing, gipsy beauty against the sober blacks and grays and faded cheeks of the gathering, looking like a Kentucky cardinal alighted in a henyard, felt her smile stiffening. Sudden and inexplicable panic and rebellion descended upon her; it seemed certain that if she heard Mrs. Wetherby say "proud of this dear girl of ours" once again she would scream. She disengaged her arm and declined tea and little frosted cakes. "I'm so sorry--it looks so tempting, doesn't it?--but I really must fly!" She looked earnestly at her wrist watch. "This very minute! Thank you all so much! You've been wonderful--quite turned my head! But I _must_ hurry!" Out in the quiet, pretty street the sense of pursuit fell away from her and she was smiling derisively at herself when she reached Sarah Farraday's house and passed through the side garden to the studio. An hour with old Sally would be good for her. Sarah was tenderly dusting her severe-looking upright piano and putting away a pile of lesson books, and turned gladly to greet her. "Jane, dear! Why, how did you get away so early? Didn't they serve tea? I was just _sick_ about not going, but the little Macey girl has had so many interruptions and is so far behind, and she does want to play at my recital, so that I felt I couldn't put her off again. How did your paper go?" "Oh, well enough. They were very nice about it." "I know they loved it. I want to read it!" She closed the music cabinet and came to take the typed manuscript. "Why, _Jane_! What's the matter?" "I don't know, Sally--Yes, I do know! It's--it's Mrs. Wetherby, and every one else! She acts as if--every one acts--" it made her angrier still to feel the color mounting hotly in her cheeks. "Well, Jane, _dear_," a faint, sympathetic flush warmed her small, pale face, "isn't that perfectly natural? Of course, I suppose it teases you, but you know how happy every one is about it." "But there isn't anything to be happy about--yet!" "Then it's just because you have--have held things off, dear, that's all. And I think Marty has been awfully faithful and patient--for _years_! Ever since you were tiny kiddies!" She looked anxiously at her best friend's mutinous face. "I'll tell you," she said, brightly, "let's run around to Nannie's for a moment! She'll just be giving the 'Teddy-bear' his oil rub. I'll run through the house and get my things--you wait out in front!"