Kate was softened. “Perhaps you are right, Frank, but you must make allowances for me. You know it is galling to a wife that her husband should be assisted by a woman who used to love him. No one would like that, Frank. You know you would not like it, now, if anyone who was once in love with me—and you don’t know how much I used to flirt before I knew you—were to come forward now and offer me money—especially if he had, you considered, behaved very badly in other respects.” “No, Katie,” Frank said heartily, “I certainly should not. I should consider it to be a confoundedly impertinent interference, and should be monstrously inclined to punch his head for him.” Kate laughed happily. “Oh, you easy-going man! There, Frank, now you have granted that, and so excused me, let us talk rationally about it. Do you mean to take the money or not?” “Of course not, Katie; I never dreamt of it.” “Why didn’t you say so at once then, you tiresome boy, and not tease me into a rage?” “You never gave me a chance, Katie,” Frank laughed. “No, dear, I would not have taken it from Captain Bradshaw, much less from Alice. Although I should like to stay in England for your sake,—it will be a hard life for you abroad, little woman.” “That’s an old subject,” Kate said, cheerfully. “Now, Frank, get out your books again, and let us go into the intricate question of where we shall go.” “We have quite decided against the United States and Canada, haven’t we?” “Yes, Frank. I should not like to be among people who would talk of us in a contemptuous sort of way as Britishers; and I can’t bear cold. It lies between the Cape, Australia, and New Zealand.” And so they took out their books again, and studied maps, and the price of land, and the question of provisions and labour, until it was time to go to bed. The next day Frank happened to be going near Mr. Bingham’s office. He liked his uncle, but he did not see much of him, for Mr. Bingham was a good deal away, and their lives lay in completely different circles. They had met once before since the failure of the Bank, so that Mr. Bingham was acquainted with the state of Frank’s affairs. “And so, Frank, you are still talking of going abroad?” “Yes,” Frank said; “there is nothing else that I can see for it. I confess, that for myself I rather like the thought, it is just the sort of life to suit me; but my wife will, I know, be sorry to leave England. She is very cheerful, you know, and so on, but I can see she dreads it a little. It is so different for a woman, you see, to what it is for a man.”