"It's a big commission, fast enough, if you get it, and there's no reason why you shouldn't have it. I don't know of another young fellow in your line in this city who's had the same chance to make his reputation at one stroke." Even this did not rouse the wife to speech. A flush stole over her face at the lawyer's words; but her eyes remained buried in the champagne glass, which she twirled gently between her fingers, thus keeping up the effervescence. Jackson was jubilant enough for two. "Dr. Everest and I were talking about the site the other day," he said. "You have only two blocks. There should be four, at least. You must give dignity to the main building by some kind of approach. The thing should be done in stone, if possible. But if that's too costly, we might try a glazed tile; you can get very good effects in that. But stone, of course, is the proper thing." "You may find the judge and Pemberton pretty stubborn on matters of detail," Wheeler remarked cautiously. But the architect flirted his napkin buoyantly. He had dealt with building committees before, and he had found that trustees usually took their duties lightly. "Well, what do you think of it, Nell?" the lawyer asked finally. "Oh! I?" She looked up blankly from the glass of wine. "It is a great chance, of course." This joyless attitude, unremarked by her husband, caused Wheeler to suspect that there were deeper troubles in this household than money worries. After a little more talk in which Helen did not take part the lawyer left to take his train for the city, and Jackson walked to the station with him. When he returned he found Helen still sitting at the empty table. His eyes were aflame with the golden light of opportunity. He put his hand over his wife's shoulder and pressed her cheek affectionately. "It's great, isn't it, Nell?" he said. She looked up into his face with a wistful smile. The good news had changed him wonderfully, even in this brief hour, erasing already some lines from his face. It seemed as if his nature was not one to grow strong in the storms of life, but needed, rather, the warmth of prosperity. "It's great, isn't it?" he repeated, desiring to savor the good fortune with her. "Yes, Francis," she replied slowly, and added almost pleadingly, "and you must do it greatly." "Of course," he assented cheerily. "It'll be the best yet--don't you worry!" CHAPTER XIX