t account-book morning?'

'Yes. I'll come to you at eleven.'

'And if we have a nice, quiet, comfortable week, I'll take you to the
Crystal Palace concert next Saturday.'

Monica nodded cheerfully, and went off to look after her housekeeping.

The week was in all respects what Widdowson desired. Not a soul came to
the house; Monica went to see no one. Save on two days, it rained,
sleeted, drizzled, fogged; on those two afternoons they had an hour's
walk. Saturday brought no improvement of the atmosphere, but Widdowson
was in his happiest mood; he cheerfully kept his promise about the
concert. As they sat together at night, his contentment overflowed in
tenderness like that of the first days of marriage.

'Now, why can't we always live like this? What have we to do with other
people? Let us be everything to each other, and forget that any one
else exists.'

'I can't help thinking that's a mistake,' Monica ventured to reply.
'For one thing, if we saw more people, we should have so much more to
talk about when we are alone.'

'It's better to talk about ourselves. I shouldn't care if I never again
saw any living creature but you. You see, the old bear loves his little
girl better than she loves him.'

Monica was silent.

'Isn't it true? You don't feel that my company would be enough for you?'

'Would it be right if I ceased to care for every one else? There are my
sisters. I ought to have asked Virginia to come to-morrow; I'm sure she
thinks I neglect her, and it must be dreadful living all alone like she
does.'

'Haven't they made up their mind yet about the school? I'm sure it's
the right thing for them to do. If the venture were to fail, and they
lost money, we would see that they never came to want.'

'They're so timid about it. And it wouldn't be nice, you know, to feel
they were going to be dependent upon us for the rest of their lives. I
had better go and see Virgie to-morrow morning, and bring her back for
dinner.

'If you like,' Widdowson assented slowly. 'But why not send a message,
and ask her to come here?'

'I had rather go. It makes a change for me.'

This was a word Widdowson detested. Change, on Monica's lips, always
seemed to mean a release from his society. But he swallowed his
dissatisfaction, and finally consented to the arrangement.

Virginia came to dinner, and stayed until nightfall. Thanks to her
sister's kindness, she was better clad than in former days, but her
face signified n