“Perfect!” said Jim radiantly, on the afternoon when, the Studdifords first inspected the house.  “It’s just exactly right, and I’m strong for it!” He came over to Julia, who was thoughtfully staring out of a drawing-room window.  Her exquisite beauty was to-day set off by a long loose sealskin coat, for the winter was early, and a picturesque little motor bonnet, also of seal, with a velvet rose against her soft hair.  “Little bit sad to-day, sweetheart?” Jim asked, kissing the tip of her ear.

“No—­o.  I was just thinking what a lovely, sheltered backyard!” Julia said sensibly, raising her blue eyes.  But she had brightened perceptibly at his tenderness.  “I love you, Jim,” she said, very simply.

“And I adore you!” Jim answered, his arms about her.  “I’ve been thinking all day how rotten that sounded this morning!” he added in a lower tone.  “I’m so sorry!”

“As if it was your fault!” Julia protested generously.  And a moment later she charmed him by declaring herself to be entirely satisfied with this enchanting house, and by entering vigorously upon the question of furnishings.

The little episode to which Doctor Studdiford had made a somewhat embarrassed allusion had taken place in their rooms at the hotel that morning, while they were breakfasting.  Plans for a little dinner party were progressing pleasantly, over the omelette and toast, when Jim chanced to suggest that a certain Mrs. Pope be included among the guests.

“Oh, Jim—­not Mrs. Jerry Pope?” Julia questioned, wide eyed.

“Yes, but she calls herself Mrs. Elsie Carroll Pope now.  Why not?”

“Oh, Jim—­but she’s divorced!”

“Well, so are lots of other people!”

“Yes, I know.  But it was such a horrid divorce, Jim!”

“Horrid how?”

“Oh, some other man, and letters in the papers, and Mr. Pope kept both the children!  It was awful!”

“Oh, come, Ju—­she’s a nice little thing, awfully witty and clever.  Why go out of your way to knock her!”

“I’m not going out of my way,” Julia answered with dignity.  “But she was a great friend of Mary Chetwynde, who used to teach at The Alexander, and she came out there two or three times, and she’s a noisy, yelling sort of woman—­and her hair is dyed—­yes, it is, Jim!”

“Lord, you women do love to rip each other up the back!” Jim smiled lazily, as he wheeled his chair about, and lighted a cigarette.

“I’m not ripping her up the back at all,” Julia protested with spirit.  “But she’s not a lady, and I hate the particular set she goes with—­”

“Not a lady—­ha!” Jim ejaculated.  “She was a Cowdry.”

Julia leaned back in her chair, and opened a fat letter from Sally Borroughs in Europe, that had come in her morning’s mail.

“Ask her by all means to dinner,” she said calmly.  “Only don’t expect me to admire her and approve of her, Jim, for I won’t do it; I know too much about her!”