"I suppose you are very happy," continued Miriam, taking in the various details of Hilda's splendour. "Yes, I suppose so. As happy as I can hope to be. He gives me everything I want. But I wish he would leave the Army altogether. For most of this year we have been living in a horrible little garrison town, and the society there consisted solely of the wives and relations of the other officers. They were all so jealous of me that it really was quite unpleasant." "I suppose you would rather live at Lesser Thorpe altogether?" "No, I hate Lesser Thorpe. I want to live in London, and go abroad, with now and then a week or two in Scotland." "In fact, you like a regular society life." "Well, I suppose you would call it that, yes; at least, I say, when one has the means let one live, not vegetate in some little hole and corner place. Of course John doesn't mind. One place is as good as another to him. I never saw such an extraordinary man; he never seems dull. He'll tramp for miles over the country--dirty, muddy, ploughed fields--and come back as hungry as a hunter, and say how much he has enjoyed himself. I can't stand that dead alive sort of existence. I must have my shops, and I love the theatre, and the ballad concerts, and the heaps of jolly things one can do in London. Don't you?" "Well, you see," said Miriam, "I haven't quite so much time on my hands as you have. For instance, we cannot afford more than one servant, and that means that there is a good deal for me to do at home, if the house is to be kept as I like it--that reminds me, I must just go and see about tea, if you'll excuse me a few minutes." Hilda made no attempt to conceal what she felt. "Really. I think I should kick at that if I were you; it must be awful to have only one servant--in London of all places! Why don't you make your husband do without something? He'd appreciate you all the more." "I don't think he could appreciate me more--he is everything that is good to me. One must cut one's coat according to one's cloth, you know, and--well, we prefer to do with one servant. Will you just see where Dicky is while I go into the kitchen?" As she left the room Hilda went in search of Master Dicky, and found him stretched out on the floor of the bedroom. He was very busily occupied with a heap of treasures he had found in an old ivory work-box which Miriam had managed to keep possession of in spite of her many vicissitudes. It was true it had for a few months reposed on the shelf of a pawnbroker in the Strand, to whom she had confided it during that terrible time just before she met with Barton. But it had been the first thing she had redeemed. It was a very old piece of Indian work, wondrously carved, and had always been a favourite of Dicky's at Pine Cottage. The boy welcomed it now as an old playfellow. "Dicky, whatever are you doing?" exclaimed Hilda, when she saw him. "You'll catch it from Miriam, upsetting her things like that!"