"Well, it _is_ a situation. People are so queer and proud and _difficile_. I suppose it’s we older people who run up oftenest against that; but if Mr. Collingham and I could only do for people the things we _might_ do, and which they won’t let us do—" Once more the idea was suspended to give Jennie time to take in the fact that a good thing was coming her way; but all she could manage was to stare with frightened, fascinated eyes and no power of thought. "Do you know, my dear," the artless voice ran on, "now that I’m face to face with you, I’m really afraid? I told my husband that, if he’d leave us alone together, I shouldn’t be—and, after all, I am." She leaned forward confidentially. "How frank would you let me be? How much would you be willing for me to say?" But before the girl could invent a reply the voice kept up its even, caressing measure. "_I_ know how things are with you—at least, I think I do. I’ve been young, my dear. I know what it is to be in love. You’re coloring, but you needn’t do it—not with me. You’re very _much_ in love, aren’t you?" Jennie bowed her head to hide her tears. She hadn’t meant to admit how much in love she was, but this sympathy unnerved her. "You do love Hubert, don’t you?" "Yes, but—" "And that’s why you told Bob you couldn’t marry him?" "That’s one of the reasons, but—" "One of the reasons will do, my dear. You don’t know how much I feel with you and for you. I could tell you a little story about myself when I was your age—but, then, old love tales are like dried flowers, they’ve lost their scent and color. Mr. Collingham and I are very fond of Hubert, and, of course, he doesn’t make enough to marry on as things are now. He has a little something, I suppose, and, with the work he’s doing, the future is secure. You’ll find, one day, that he’ll be painting you as Andrea del Sarto painted Lucrezia, and Rembrandt Saskia—their wives, you know—" "Oh, but, Mrs. Collingham—" "There, there, my dear! I’m not going to say anything more about that. I know Hubert and what he wants, and so my husband and I thought that if we could show our gratitude to you and make things easier for him—" "Oh, but you couldn’t!" "We couldn’t unless you helped us. That goes without saying, of course. But we hoped you would. You see, when people have so much—not that we’re so tremendously rich, but when they have enough—and when they know as we do what struggle is—and there’s been anyone whom they admire as we admire you, after all you’ve done for Bob—we thought that if we could give you a little present—a wedding present it would be—only just a little in anticipation—we thought five thousand dollars—" She ceased suddenly because Jennie appeared as one transfixed. She sat erect; but the life seemed to have gone out of her.