“I wish, Madeleine,” he had said one day, when he had waited two hours for her to return from a drive with Tom, “that you would have a little regard for appearances, if you have none for my wishes. It is not seemly for my betrothed wife to be driving all over the country with another man.” 

Magnificent Madeleine looked straight at him, tilting her head back slightly to look beneath her half-closed lids. 

“It is not seemly,” she said, “for my betrothed husband to imply that I could be at fault in a matter of propriety or punctilio. That is not possible.” 

“You are right,” he said, and his eyes gleamed with admiration of her glorious beauty and imperious manner. “Forgive me,—you are indeed right.” 

Though Schuyler Carleton may not have been lavish of affection, he begrudged no admiration to the splendid woman he had won. 

And yet, had he but known it, the apparently scornful and haughty girl was craving a more tender and gentle love, and would gladly have foregone his admiration to have received more affection. 

“But it will come,” Madeleine thought to herself. “I am not of the ‘clinging vine’ type, I know; but after we are married, surely Schuyler will be less formally polite, and more,—well,—chummy.” 

Yet Madeleine herself was chummy with nobody save Tom. They two were always chatting and laughing together, and though they differed sometimes, and even quarrelled, it was quickly made up, and forgotten in a new subject of merry discussion. 

But, after all, they rarely quarrelled except regarding Madeleine’s approaching marriage. 

“Don’t throw yourself away on that iceberg, Maddy,” Tom would plead. “He’s a truly fine man, I know, but he can’t make you happy.” 

“How absurd you are, Tom! Give me credit, please, for knowing my own mind, at least. I love Schuyler Carleton, and I am proud that he is to be my husband. He is the finest man I have ever known in every way, and I am a fortunate girl to be chosen by such a man.” 

“Oho, Maddy! Don’t do the humble; it doesn’t suit you at all. You are the type who ought to have ‘kings and crown princes at your feet.’ And Carleton is princely enough in his effects, but he’s by no means at your feet.” 

“What do you mean?” exclaimed Madeleine angrily. 

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