Murray leaned back in his chair and gave the matter thoughtful consideration. Somehow he had become unusually interested in this young man’s effort to do a wise and generous thing for his wife in the face of her opposition. If the man had been seeking to gain some benefit for himself, Murray would not have listened to even a suggestion of deceit. But the aim was entirely unselfish, and Beckford had brought a letter of introduction that left no doubt as to his responsibility and integrity. Then, too, the situation was amusing. Here were two business men plotting—what? Why, the welfare of their opponent, and that only. “So many women have beaten me,” said Murray at last, “that I should really like to beat one of them, especially when it’s for her own good. Bring your wife up here, and I’ll see what I can do.” But here again feminine capriciousness was exemplified. Having apparently won her point, Isabel Beckford began to wish she had lost it. “I’m afraid,” she said. “Suppose I should find that something frightful was the matter with me? Those insurance doctors are awfully particular, and—and—I’d rather not know it, if I’m going to die very soon.” “Oh, very well,” acquiesced her husband. “We’ll go back to my original plan and put the whole ten thousand dollars on my life.” “No, no, no!” she protested. “It would be even worse, if I learned that there was anything wrong with you. I couldn’t bear it, Harry; I couldn’t, really! There wouldn’t be anything left in life for me. Let’s not go at all.” “That’s foolish, Isabel,” he argued. “I’m all right, and the very fact that I am accepted as a good risk will remove every doubt.” “That’s so,” she admitted. “We’ll be sure, then, won’t we?” “Of course.” “Then we’ll both go,” she announced, with a sudden reversal of judgment. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but I’ll feel a lot better and stronger when I’m insured, because the companies are so particular, and it will be comforting to know that you are all right. It’s worth something to find that out, isn’t it? And sometimes a family physician won’t tell you the truth, because it won’t do any good and he doesn’t want to frighten you. We’ll go right away and see about it now.” “Hardly this evening,” he answered, smiling, although he was sorely troubled. “We’ll go to-morrow afternoon.” “But it’s so long to wait until to-morrow,” she pouted. He regretted the delay quite as much as she did, for his experience up to date led him to think that there might be another change. First she had refused to consider the matter at all; then she had insisted they should go together; after that she had backed out; next she had demanded he should give up the idea, also; and now she was again determined it should be a joint affair. “No man,” he muttered, as he dropped off to sleep, “knows anything about a woman until he marries, and then he only learns enough to know that he knows nothing at all.”