n him in London, and I am going to start this very
afternoon."

The rosy color came back into her face: she smiled triumphantly, but her
lips quivered as she smiled.

"That's right, my dear. I don't approve of young husbands and wives
living separate, unless there's some very good cause for it," said Mrs.
Bundlecombe, thinking of her beloved Alan. "It always gives occasion to
the enemy, and I think you're very wise to go back. Perhaps you had some
little bit of a tiff or misunderstanding with Mr. Beadon----"

"Oh no," said Milly. The color in her face was painfully hot now. "Mr.
Beadon is always very good and kind. But," she continued, looking down
and pushing her wedding-ring to and fro, "he is very busy indeed, and he
is obliged to go abroad sometimes on business. He travels--I think he
calls it--for a great London house. He is getting on very well, he says,
in his own particular line."

"Ah, that is nice!" said Mrs. Chigwin, comfortably. "And how glad you
will be to see each other."

"Oh, yes," faltered Milly. There was a curiously pathetic look in her
great blue eyes such as we sometimes see in those of a timid child.
"Yes--very glad."

"And you'll bring him down here to see your grandmother, I suppose?
She's not set eyes on him yet, has she? And how nice it will be for you
to come down now and then--especially when you have a family, my dear,
Birchmead being so healthy for children, and Mrs. Harrington such a good
hand with babies----"

Suddenly, and to Mrs. Chigwin's infinite surprise, Milly burst into
tears. The loud, uncontrolled sobs frightened the two old women for a
moment; then Mrs. Chigwin got up and fetched a glass of water, clicking
her tongue against the roof of her mouth, and audibly expressing her
fear that Milly's exertions had been "too much for her." But Mrs.
Bundlecombe sat erect, with a look of something like disapproval upon
her comely old face. She had her own views concerning Milly and her good
fortune; and soft and kind-hearted by nature as she was, there were some
things that Aunt Bessy never forgave. The wickedness of Alan's wife had
hardened her a little to youthful womankind.

"I'm better, thank you," said Milly, checking her sobs at last, and
beginning to laugh hysterically. "I don't know what made me give way so,
I'm sure."

"You're tired, love," said Mrs. Chigwin, sympathetically, "and you're
not well, that's easy to see. You must just take care of yourself, or
you'll be lai