sure of five years ahead at least, and one
doesn't need to look beyond that.'

_M._ 'Well, you were twenty-four when you married Gordon; why didn't you
choose him more carefully?'

_K._ 'That was largely "a matter of economics" as I read in an old play
called _Votes for Women_, not long ago--so quaint their ideas were in
those days!--and there was something in it too about "twenty-four used
not to be so young, but it's become so!" Still, I was old enough to know
better, but I was light-hearted and luxury-loving, and I couldn't live
on that pittance, which was all the law compelled George to allow me.
I don't blame him, it was all he could do to save the necessary tax for
the children. So I married Gordon for a home, and of course it was
hateful!'

_M._ 'And your third husband died?'

_K._ 'Yes; the one who should have lived generally dies. I lost him
after two years only, but I can't talk of him, dear; he was just my Man
of Men.'

_M._ 'Ah! I'm glad you have had that.'

_K._ 'Oh! I have been lucky with all my troubles, as I told you. I was
alone for four years after I lost my Best, and I should like to have
been faithful to him for ever. But I wasn't strong enough; in spite of
the dear children I was very lonely, as the elder ones were always at
school.'

_M._ 'Yes, and one wants a man, somehow, to fuss round one.'

_K._ 'True, it's a fatal weakness. So at last I married my good little
Duncan, just for companionship. I chose _him_ carefully enough.
Experience has taught me a lot, and I didn't mean to be left in the
lurch at forty as so many are.'

_M._ 'I'm glad he's good to you. Yes; it's fearful how many women get
left alone just when they need care and love most, when their looks and
freshness are gone, and their energy weakened. But, as you haven't got
that to fear, why should you be so worried now?'

_K._ 'It isn't exactly that I'm worried--I'm used up! Twenty years of
uncertain domestic arrangements is enough to wear out anyone. I've never
been able to feel settled in any house, or let myself get attached to a
place, or plant out a garden even. One's set of friends is always
breaking up; people never seem to buy houses and estates now, or to get
rooted anywhere. In the novels of fifty years ago, how they used to
complain about being in a groove! They little knew how miserable life
could be for want of a permanent groove.'

_M._ 'I dislike monotony, but it certainly has its advantages. You
remember m