“What a fool I was,” said Eve and put up her mouth.
If the Brokes had slid back for ten months, for the next six they went steadily forward, hand in hand. It was the strangest progress. Luxury, Idleness, Ease certainly came behind, but dutifully, as servants should. A jovial Discipline jogged by their side. Respect and Self-Respect marched solemnly ahead.
Jeremy did admirably.
Eve had never been mouthed—and she was twenty-six. She was worth twenty thousand pounds a year. Finally, she was American. . . .
With infinite patience, with gentleness, firmly her husband went to work—helping his wife, helping himself, helping his wife to help him and always giving her the glory. Eve gave it back always, with a look in her eyes that money cannot buy.
The vanities of a wicked world were against her, but her love and respect for Jeremy beat them back. She began to see the smile on Discipline’s face, look for his cheerful wink, glow before his bluff praise.
One November morning Jeremy woke to find her fully dressed.
This was unusual. That one’s fast should be broken in bed was one of the articles of Mrs. Broke’s faith.
So soon as her husband could speak, he asked what was wrong.