ait on
me, and teased him because he did it so badly. It was such fun! I
enjoyed myself frightfully. Mother read me a long lecture one night,
and said Mr Merrivale would be pained to see father's daughter was such
a frivolous girl. But he wasn't. He fell in love with me instead.
Doesn't that seem queer?"

I didn't think it was queer at all. Imagination conjured up scenes in
the summer garden where the gay pretty girl had held her little court,
and queened it over the grave, silent man. It was a thousand to one on
his falling under the spell. The mischief of it was that he had
expected the marriage ceremony to convert a butterfly into a staid,
parochial wife. John Courtney Merrivale had a thousand virtues, but
imagination was not his strong point.

"I think it was extremely natural. Just what I should have expected to
happen. You are very pretty, you know, and I expect you made a charming
task-mistress. And, of course, any sane girl must have been interested
in him. But--what did you think about the life in this little place?"

"Oh! I didn't think about it at all," she said calmly. "I was so
happy, and--excited. And so busy getting my clothes, and the presents,
and arranging for the wedding. I had a lovely wedding. Eight
bridesmaids carrying rose-staves. And Jacky took me to Switzerland for
the honeymoon, and was so young and gay himself. Like a boy. I had a
perfectly glorious three months, and then--"

She paused, and the pink and white face puckered into a grimace as she
cast an expressive glance to right and left.

"We came _home_! That was the first shock, seeing all this dingy,
hideous furniture, and realising that it had to stay. Jacky likes it
because it belonged to his mother, and he thinks it would be wicked
waste to sell it for nothing, and buy new. I tried to brighten things
up, but--if you look round this room you will realise that a few new
things made the effect _worse_! I gave it up in despair, and all my
pretty cushions and embroideries, and pictures and ornaments are hidden
away in boxes in the attic."

"Oh, that's hard! You have my unbounded sympathy. I should hate to
live in uncongenial surroundings. Isn't there _any_ room in the house
you could have for your own, and furnish just exactly as you like?"

"All the rooms are full. I've given up trying to change things _now_,
but they irritate me all the same. When I've been out all the day at
meetings and guilds, it w