e matter is, Geoffrey," she went on, looking
very much as though she were about to burst into a flood of angry tears,
"as I said just now, beggars cannot be choosers--I cannot live like
the wife of a banker's clerk. I must have _some_ amusement, and _some_
comfort, before I become an old woman. If you don't like it, why did you
entrap me into this wretched marriage, before I was old enough to know
better, or why do you not make enough money to keep me in a way suitable
to my position?"

"We have argued that question before, Honoria," said Geoffrey, keeping
his temper with difficulty, "and now there is another thing I wish to
say to you. Do you know that detestable woman Anne stopped for more than
half an hour at Paddington Station this evening, flirting with a ticket
collector, instead of bringing Effie home at once, as I told her to do.
I am very angry about it. She is not to be relied on; we shall have some
accident with the child before we have done. Cannot you discharge her
and get another nurse?"

"No, I cannot. She is the one comfort I have. Where am I going to find
another woman who can make dresses like Anne--she saves me a hundred
a year--I don't care if she flirted with fifty ticket collectors. I
suppose you got this story from Effie; the child ought to be whipped for
tale-bearing, and I daresay that it is not true."

"Effie will certainly not be whipped," answered Geoffrey sternly. "I
warn you that it will go very badly with anybody who lays a finger on
her."

"Oh, very well, ruin the child. Go your own way, Geoffrey! At any rate I
am not going to stop here to listen to any more abuse. Good-night," and
she went.

Geoffrey sat down, and lit a cigarette. "A pleasant home-coming,"
he thought to himself. "Honoria shall have money as much as she can
spend--if I kill myself to get it, she shall have it. What a life, what
a life! I wonder if Beatrice would treat her husband like this--if she
had one."

He laughed aloud at the absurdity of the idea, and then with a gesture
of impatience threw his cigarette into the fire and went to his room to
try and get some sleep, for he was thoroughly wearied.

CHAPTER XVII

GEOFFREY WINS HIS CASE

Before ten o'clock on the following morning, having already spent two
hours over his brief, that he had now thoroughly mastered, Geoffrey was
at his chambers, which he had some difficulty in reaching owing to the
thick fog that still hung over London, and indeed all Eng