"You must have some clothes, and the proper kind of clothes. I made a good thing out of the pageant, so we're flush now. I will design some gowns for you."
"Oh, don't bother. I can buy some things that will do."
"You must get over that idea, Jane. As my wife, you must look like something; you must have style, and charm."
"Those were not on your list of wife requirements," she said. "I cannot produce either quality."
"Oh, yes, you can. I'll put my mind on it," he said, finally, and he did.
For several days he studied her, as he studied a portrait subject. He marked her good lines, decided about her colours. He made water-colour sketches of the costumes, enjoying himself thoroughly. Jane evinced so little interest that at last he exploded about it.
"Don't you care how you look?"
"I don't, myself, but your wife will care, from this time on."
"Don't you like these things?"
"I think they're beautiful, only I can't see myself in them, somehow."