I chose to get married in my own way. You, Mrs.
Wade, are not likely to find fault with me for that."

"Oh dear no!" she answered, with friendly indifference.

"I am told you see a good deal of the Liversedges?"

She nodded.

"Does my sister give any promise of reaching higher levels? Or is she a
hopeless groveller?"

"Mrs. Liversedge is the kind of woman I can respect, independently of
her views."

"I like to hear you say that, because I know you don't deal in
complimentary phrases. The respect, I am sure, is reciprocated."

Mrs. Wade seemed to give slight attention; she was looking at a picture
above the fireplace.

"You will count my wife among your friends, I hope?" he continued.

"I hope so. Do you think we shall understand each other?"

"If not, it won't be for lack of good will on her side. I mustn't begin
to praise her, but I think you will find she has a very fair portion of
brains."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"Do you imply that you had fears?"

"Men are occasionally odd in their choice of wives."

"Yes," Denzil replied, with a laugh; "I have seen remarkable
illustrations of it."

"I didn't feel sure that you regarded brains as an essential."

"Indeed! Then you were a long way from understanding me. How can you
say that, after my lecture, and our talks?"

"Oh, theory doesn't go for much. May I call shortly?"

"If you will be so good."

"She's very young, I think?"

"Not much more than one-and-twenty. I have known her for about three
years."

There was a short silence, then Mrs. Wade said with some abruptness:

"I think of leaving Polterham before long. It was Mr. and Mrs.
Hornibrook who decided me to come here, and now that they are gone I
feel as if I too had better stir. I want books that are out of my
reach."

"That will be a loss to us, Mrs. Wade. Society in Polterham has its
limitations"----

"I'm aware of it. But you, of course, will have a home in London as
well?"

"Well, yes--if I get sent to Parliament."

"I suppose we shall meet there some day."

Her voice grew careless and dreamy. She folded her hands upon her lap,
and assumed a look which seemed to Denzil a hint that he might now
depart. He stood up.

"So you are going to skate?" murmured Mrs. Wade. "I won't keep you.
Thank you very much for looking in."

Denzil tried once more to read her countenance, and went away with a
puzzled feeling. He could not conjecture the meaning of her changed
tone.

CHAP