‘You don’t say that, John!’ ‘I tell you, Jane, I couldn’t ’ardly believe my ears. They was married on Tuesday last, as we know well, and to-day’s _Times_ to prove it, and yet if you’ll believe me, they was talkin’ about ’ow they ’ad travelled alone abroad—’ ‘Never, John!’ ‘And alone in a Swiss ’otel!’ ‘My goodness!’ ‘And a steamer too.’ ‘Well, there! I’ll never trust any one again.’ ‘Oh, a perfec’ pair of scorchers. But I’ll let ’im see as I knows it. I’ll put that _Times_ before ’im to-night at dinner as sure as my name’s John.’ ‘And a good lesson to them, too! If you didn’t say you’d ’eard it from their own lips, John, I never could ’ave believed it. It’s things like that as shakes your trust in ’uman nature.’ Maude and Frank were lingering at the _table d’hôte_ over their walnuts and a glass of port wine, when their waiter came softly behind them. ‘Beg pardon, sir, but did you see it in the _Times_?’ ‘See what?’ ‘_That_, sir. I thought that it might be of interest to you and to your good lady to see it.’ He had laid one page of the paper before them, with his forefinger upon an item in the left-hand top corner. Then he discreetly withdrew. Frank stared at it in horror. ‘Maude, your people have gone and put it in.’ ‘Our marriage!’ ‘Here it is! Listen! “Crosse—Selby. 30th June, at St. Monica’s Church, by the Rev. John Tudwell, M.A., Vicar of St. Monica’s, Frank Crosse, of Maybury Road, Woking, to Maude Selby, eldest daughter of Robert Selby, Esq., of St. Albans.” Great Scot, Maude! what shall we do?’ ‘Well, dear, does it matter?’ ‘Matter! It’s simply awful!’ ‘I don’t mind much if they do know.’ ‘But my reminiscences, Maude! The travels in the Tyrol! The Swiss Hotel! The Stateroom! Great goodness, how I have put my foot into it.’ Maude burst out laughing. ‘You old dear!’ she cried, ‘I don’t believe you are a bit better as a conspirator than I am. There’s only one thing you can do. Give the waiter half a crown, tell him the truth, and don’t conspire any more.’ And so ignominiously ended the attempt which so many have made, and at which so many have failed. Take warning, gentle reader, and you also, gentler reader still, when your own turn comes. THE HOME-COMING