‘_I_! What can it matter what form _I_ am in. But in any case, it is out of the question.’ ‘But you could get leave.’ ‘Oh yes, easily enough.’ ‘Then do go.’ ‘And leave you at such a time!’ ‘No, no, you would be back.’ ‘You can’t be so sure of that. No, Maude, I should never forgive myself. Such an idea would never enter my head.’ ‘But for my sake—!’ ‘That’s enough, Maude. It is settled.’ Master Frank had a heavy foot when he did bring it down, and his wife recognised a decisive thud this time. With a curious double current of feeling, she was pleased and disappointed at the same time, but more pleased than disappointed, so she kissed the marrer of her plots. ‘What an obstinate old boy it is! But of course you know best, and I should much rather have you at home. As you say, one can never be certain.’ In a conflict of wits the woman may lose a battle, but the odds are that she will win the campaign. The man dissipates over many things, while she concentrates upon the one. Maude had made up her mind absolutely upon one point, and she meant to attain it. She tried here, she tried there, through a friend, through her mother, but Frank was still immovable. The ordeal coming upon herself never disturbed her for an instant. But the thought that Frank would suffer was unendurable. She put herself in his place, and realised what it would be to him if he were in the house at such a time. With many cunning devices she tried to lure him off, but still, in his stubborn way, he refused to be misled. And then suddenly she realised that it was too late. It was early one morning that the conviction came home to her, but he, at her side, knew nothing of it. He came up to her before he left for the City. ‘You have not eaten anything, dear.’ ‘No, Frank, I am not hungry.’ ‘Perhaps, after you get up—’ ‘Well, dear, I thought of staying in bed.’ ‘You are not—?’ ‘What nonsense, dear! I want to keep very quiet until next week, when I may need all my strength.’ ‘Dear girl, I would gladly give ten years of my life to have next week past.’ ‘Silly old boy! But I do think it would be wiser if I were to keep in bed.’ ‘Yes, yes, do.’ ‘I have a little headache. Nothing to speak of, but just a little.’ ‘Don’t you think Dr. Jordan had better give you something for it.’ ‘Do you think so? Well, just as you like. You might call as you pass, and tell him to step up.’ And so, upon a false mission, the doctor was summoned to her side, but found a very real mission waiting for him when he got there. She had written a note for Frank the moment that he had left the house, and he found both it and a conspiracy of silence waiting for him when he returned in the late afternoon. The note was upon the hall-table, and he eagerly tore it open.