"Yes, certain liaisons have lasted and been happy," she admitted; "we know that, but only on the same terms that will make permanent happiness in such a marriage. You are not a worker—you are simply curious about life, and curiosity is not a thing that is satisfied by one experience. The marriage you would make now would simply be an experience in curiosity, with inevitable results. To have any chance of success, do you know what ought to be?" "What?" "There should be on each side an equal experience in curiosity. When you have known two hundred women, you will find that there is always one above the rest who is necessary to you. Miss Charters may be that one now, but without the experience I speak of, you will never recognize it until too late. Therefore," she said, standing up, "don’t marry for ten years. Not with such eyes and such lips," she said, passing her hand over the flushed face of the young man. "I know what I’m speaking of. Life’s a very big world when you’re alone, and a very small patch when you’re married. Wait. Think over what I’ve said, Teddy." He did think over what she had told him as he walked out into the street. "She sees very clearly," he said solemnly, "and there’s a great deal in what she says—a great deal," he repeated firmly, and stopping at the first hotel he telephoned Nan Charters. The next morning he received another note from her. Just to repeat, Teddy dear, that I think too much of you to hold you to what happened yesterday. We must both think _seriously—very seriously_. NAN. "That’s right: we must think seriously," he repeated solemnly, and reached for the papers, after eying the telephone for a long time. Gunther called up later in the morning to give him an astonishing bit of news—Garraboy had sailed for Europe at nine that morning, and on the same ship had gone Mrs. Cheever. But this news did not excite him in the least. He spent the morning very heavily, keeping to his promise not to telephone with great difficulty. He did not go to his club for luncheon, but took his meal alone at a chance restaurant. Then he went to call on Emma Fornez. "Aha, you have called to talk to me about your little Chartèrs," said the prima donna at once. "How do you know?" he said bluntly. "It’s very simple; when a man’s in love he never talks it over with a man—no, he always goes to another woman." "Well, would you be surprised if I married Miss Charters?" he said, glad to have arrived at the only topic which interested him. "If you what!" exclaimed Mme. Fornez, catapulting from the sofa. "If I marry," he repeated firmly. "Marry? Oh, no, no, no!" she cried, with her hands on her hips and bobbing her head to each negation. "Amuse yourself—love—flirt—break her heart or break yours—_est-ce que je sais_—but marry? What! You are mad!" "I mean it."