my pocket-book. I will look him up. My
special chum, Dick Cameron, is to be out there in November,
investigating one of their queer water-cures. I wish you knew Dick
Cameron, Helen. I shall hope to see him, too. Has your cousin a spare
room in his flat?"

"I do not know. Ronnie, Aubrey Treherne is not a good man. He is not a
man you should trust."

"Darling, you don't necessarily trust a fellow because he puts you up
for the night. But I daresay Dick will find me a room."

"Aubrey is not a good man," repeated Helen firmly.

"Dear, we are none of us good."

"_You_ are, Ronnie--in the sense I mean, or I should not have married
you."

"Oh, then, yes _please_!" said Ronnie. "I am very, very good!"

He laughed up at her, but Helen's face was grave. Then a sudden thought
brightened it.

"If you really go to Leipzig, Ronnie, could you look in at
Zimmermann's--a first-rate place for musical instruments of all
kinds--and choose me a small organ for the new church? I saw a little
beauty the other day at Huntingford; a perfect tone, twelve stops, and
quite easy to play. They had had it sent over from Leipzig. It cost only
twenty-four pounds. In England, one could hardly have bought so good an
instrument for less than forty. If you could choose one with a really
sweet tone, and have it shipped over here, I should be grateful."

"With pleasure, darling. I enjoy trying all sorts of instruments. But
why economise over the organ? If my wife fancied a hundred guinea organ,
I could give it her."

"No, you couldn't, Ronnie. You must not be extravagant."

"I am not extravagant, dear. Buying things one can afford is not
extravagance."

"Sometimes it is. Extravagance is not spending money. But it is paying a
higher price for a thing than the actual need demands, or than the
circumstances justify. I considered you extravagant last winter when you
paid five guineas for a box at Olympia, intended to hold eight people,
and sat in it, in solitary grandeur, alone with your wife."

"I know you did," said Ronnie. "You left me no possible loop-hole for
doubt in the matter. But your quite mistaken view, on that occasion,
arose from an incorrect estimate of values. I paid one pound, six
shillings and three-pence for the two seats, and three pounds, eighteen
and nine-pence for the pleasure of sitting alone with my wife, and
thought it cheap at that. It was a far lower price than the actual need
demanded; therefore, by your own showing,