for not being rich?'

And his thoughts went back to his first interview with Bridget
Cookson--on the day when their engagement was announced. He could see
the tall sharp-featured woman now, standing with her back to the light
in the little sitting-room of the Manchester lodgings. She had not been
fierce or abusive at all. She had accepted it quietly--with only a few
bitter sentences.

'All right, Mr. Sarratt. I have nothing to say. Nelly must please
herself. But you've done her an injury! There are plenty of rich men
that would have married her. You're very poor--and so are we.'

When the words were spoken, Nelly had just accepted him; she was her own
mistress; he had not therefore taken her sister's disapproval much to
heart. Still the words had rankled.

'Darling!--when I made you marry me--_did_ I do you an injury?' he said
suddenly, as they were walking again hand in hand along the high green
path with the lake at their feet, and a vision of blue and rose before
them, in the shadowed western mountains, the lower grounds steeped in
fiery light, and the red reflections in the still water.

'What _do_ you mean?' said Nelly, turning upon him a face of wonder.

'Well, that was what Bridget said to me, when I told her that you had
accepted me. But I was a great fool to tell you, darling! I'm sorry I
did. It was only--'

'"Injury,"' repeated Nelly, not listening to him. 'Oh, yes, of course
that was money. Bridget says it's all nonsense talking about honour, or
love, or that kind of thing. Everything is really money. It was money
that began this war. The Germans wanted our trade and our money--and we
were determined they shouldn't have them--and that's all there is in it.
With money you can have everything you want and a jolly life--and
without money you can have nothing,--and are just nobody. When that rich
old horror wanted to marry me last year in Manchester, Bridget thought
me perfectly mad to refuse him. She didn't speak to me for a week. Of
course he would have provided for her too.'

Sarratt had flushed hotly; but he spoke good-naturedly.

'Well, that was a miss for her--I quite see that. But after all we can
help her a bit. We shall always feel that we must look after her. And
why shouldn't she herself marry?'

Nelly laughed.

'Never! She hates men.'

There was a silence a moment. And then Sarratt said, rather gravely--'I
say, darling, if she's going to make you miserable while I am away,
hadn't we b