nk you thought anything--I
mean--I think you must leave it a little to me--to my tact, to get rid
of him; and trust me. And I want you to know that I shouldn't care if I
never saw him again. I don't even like him. And I really don't think he
cares for me; I'm quite certain it's your fancy."

"Can you give me your word of honour that he never----"

"Never, by word or look," answered Bertha.

"That's all right," said Percy.

* * * * *

Bertha sat on the arm of his chair and leant her head against his
shoulder.

At that moment he thought he had never known what happiness was before.

Then she said:

"It's all right now, then, Percy? That was all, and the cloud's gone?"

"Quite, absolutely," he answered, mentally tearing the letters into
little bits.

Then she said:

"Percy, of course you never really thought ... you never could think
that I meant to deceive you in any way. ... But supposing Nigel had had
any treacherous ideas--let us say, supposing that Nigel, though he's
married, and all that--suppose you found out that he had liked me, and
wanted to spoil our happiness? ... I mean, suppose you found out that he
had been making love to me? ... What would you have done?"

"I should have killed him," replied Percy. Could a man have said
anything that would please a woman as much as this primitive assertion?

Bertha threw her arms round his neck. She was perfectly happy. He was in
love with her.

CHAPTER XIII

RECONCILIATION

Bertha decided it was better to curtail Nigel's visits and make them
fewer gradually; she had quite convinced Percy of her sincerity, and he
also had come to the conclusion that it would be foolish and _infra dig_
to let the jealousy be suspected. He trusted her again now; and they
were both deeply and intensely happy. Being ashamed of the letters,
Percy said nothing about them; in a day or two he had come to the
conclusion that he would leave it entirely to Bertha's tact.

"All I ask is," he said, "that you will see him as little and as seldom
as you can, without making too much fuss about it, or letting him know
what I thought."

"And I promise to do that," she said. "I long never to see him again.
It's only on account of Madeline I wanted to have one more little talk
with him--about her and Rupert. After that I'll manage without him, I
assure you. I swear not to give him anything more to do for me. But
what I can't understand, dear, is wh