r, and please don't show any anxiety if you don't see
him for a little while, either."

"I sha'n't be a bit anxious, Bertha, especially if it's only racing, or
something of that sort. Or, in fact, anything, unless I get afraid he's
seeing Miss Chivvey. Do you ever think that Rupert still takes an
interest in Miss Chivvey?"

"A little, but I don't think it matters. I think she's needed as a
contrast to you. She surprises and shocks him, and that amuses him, but
she isn't his real taste. I don't think Miss Chivvey's dangerous,
seriously. She uses cheap scent."

"Oh!" cried Madeline, delighted. "There's nothing so awful as cheap
scent!"

"Except expensive scent, because it's stronger," said Bertha.

Madeline looked at her admiringly.

"How extraordinary you are, Bertha! It's wonderfully sweet of you to
take such an interest in my wretched little romance. You might have so
many of your own, if you cared to."

"Ah, but I don't care to. I'm rather exacting in a way, but I don't want
variety. I've no desire for an audience. I don't want a little of
everybody. All I want is the whole of one person."

"Is that all! Well, you've got it," replied Madeline.

"I hope so," she answered, rather seriously. "I'm not altogether
satisfied. I can't settle down to the idea of a dull, humdrum sort of
life--and of Percy's being fond of me casually."

"Oh, good gracious, I'm sure he isn't casual! What a strange idea of
yours!"

"I hope I'm wrong. I believe I want something that's very nearly
impossible. I've always had a sort of ideal or dream of making an
ordinary average married life into a romance."

"Well, and can't it be?"

"I don't really see why it shouldn't. But there's no doubt there are
immense difficulties in the way. It seems to be necessary, first of all,
for there to be not only one exceptional temperament, but two. And
that's a good deal to expect. Of course, the obvious danger is the
probability of people getting tired of anything they've got. I'm afraid
that's human nature. The toys the children see in the shop-window always
seem much less wonderful when they're home in the nursery. As a brother
of mine used to say a little vulgarly, 'You don't run after an omnibus
when once you've caught it.'"

"Perhaps not."

"As soon as you belong to a person, obviously, Madeline, they don't
value you _quite_ in the same kind of way. The glamour seems to go."

"But you don't want necessarily always to be _run after_, su