ke any difficulty now," said Arnold. "I have settled that."

"_You!_"

Arnold smiled. After what had passed, it was an indescribable relief to
him to see the humorous side of his own position at the inn.

"Certainly," he answered. "When I asked for the lady who had arrived
here alone this afternoon--"

"Yes."

"I was told, in your interests, to ask for her as my wife."

Anne looked at him--in alarm as well as in surprise.

"You asked for me as your wife?" she repeated.

"Yes. I haven't done wrong--have I? As I understood it, there was
no alternative. Geoffrey told me you had settled with him to present
yourself here as a married lady, whose husband was coming to join her."

"I thought of _him_ when I said that. I never thought of _you_."

"Natural enough. Still, it comes to the same thing (doesn't it?) with
the people of this house."

"I don't understand you."

"I will try and explain myself a little better. Geoffrey said your
position here depended on my asking for you at the door (as _he_ would
have asked for you if he had come) in the character of your husband."

"He had no right to say that."

"No right? After what you have told me of the landlady, just think
what might have happened if he had _not_ said it! I haven't had much
experience myself of these things. But--allow me to ask--wouldn't it
have been a little awkward (at my age) if I had come here and inquired
for you as a friend? Don't you think, in that case, the landlady might
have made some additional difficulty about letting you have the rooms?"

It was beyond dispute that the landlady would have refused to let the
rooms at all. It was equally plain that the deception which Arnold
had practiced on the people of the inn was a deception which Anne had
herself rendered necessary, in her own interests. She was not to blame;
it was clearly impossible for her to have foreseen such an event as
Geoffrey's departure for London. Still, she felt an uneasy sense
of responsibility--a vague dread of what might happen next. She sat
nervously twisting her handkerchief in her lap, and made no answer.

"Don't suppose I object to this little stratagem," Arnold went on. "I am
serving my old friend, and I am helping the lady who is soon to be his
wife."

Anne rose abruptly to her feet, and amazed him by a very unexpected
question.

"Mr. Brinkworth," she said, "forgive me the rudeness of something I am
about to say to you. When are you going away?"

Arnol