"She's still single," said the grocer.

"What of it?" demanded Mr. Barrett, with warmth. "What of it?"

"Nothing," said Mr. Jernshaw, slowly. "Nothing; only I----"

"Well?" said the other, as he paused.

"I--there was an idea that you went to Australia to--to better your
condition," murmured the grocer. "That--that you were not in a position
to marry--that----"

"Boy and girl nonsense," said Mr. Barrett, sharply. "Why, it's fifteen
years ago. I don't suppose I should know her if I saw her. Is her
mother alive?"

"Rather!" said Mr. Jernshaw, with emphasis. "Louisa is something like
what her mother was when you went away."

Mr. Barrett shivered.

"But you'll see for yourself," continued the other. "You'll have to go
and see them. They'll wonder you haven't been before."

"Let 'em wonder," said the embarrassed Mr. Barrett. "I shall go and see
all my old friends in their turn; casual-like. You might let 'em hear
that I've been to see you before seeing them, and then, if they're
thinking any nonsense, it'll be a hint. I'm stopping in town while the
house is being decorated; next time I come down I'll call and see
somebody else."

"That'll be another hint," assented Mr. Jernshaw. "Not that hints are
much good to Mrs. Prentice."

"We'll see," said Mr. Barrett.

In accordance with his plan his return to his native town was heralded by
a few short visits at respectable intervals. A sort of human butterfly,
he streaked rapidly across one or two streets, alighted for half an hour
to resume an old friendship, and then disappeared again. Having given at
least half-a-dozen hints of this kind, he made a final return to Ramsbury
and entered into occupation of his new house.

"It does you credit, Jernshaw," he said, gratefully. "I should have made
a rare mess of it without your help."

"It looks very nice," admitted his friend. "Too nice."

"That's all nonsense," said the owner, irritably.

"All right," said Mr. Jernshaw. "I don't know the sex, then, that's all.
If you think that you're going to keep a nice house like this all to
yourself, you're mistaken. It's a home; and where there's a home a woman
comes in, somehow."

Mr. Barrett grunted his disbelief.

"I give you four days," said Mr. Jernshaw.

As a matter of fact, Mrs. Prentice and her daughter came on the fifth.
Mr. Barrett, who was in an easy-chair, wooing slumber with a handkerchief
over his head, heard their voices at the front doo