He seated himself so that he could look at her face in the full light of the fire. ‘No; turn to the fire, so that I can see you.’ He drew a hassock close to her chair, sat down on it, and looked up to her so that the full reflection of the fire fell upon him. ‘Will that please you?’ She passed her hand timidly through his hair without looking at him. ‘I am half ashamed to tell you,’ she said huskily, ‘because I have done something that you will be angry about.’ ‘Come on with it, then, and let us get the angry part over as quickly as possible, so that we may have the more time for enjoying ourselves.’ ‘I always thought that I should never listen to anything which I might not repeat to you, Philip,’ she said hesitatingly. ‘Well?’ ‘This afternoon, I have listened to something which I have ... I _have_ promised not to tell you—yet.’ That little word ‘yet’ seemed to come in as a peacemaker; and Philip felt that it was so. But he looked gravely at the merry fire for a few minutes before he answered, and she now gazed anxiously into his face. Then, he: ‘I don’t like the idea, Madge, and it would be nonsense to pretend that I did. I should feel myself—well, we won’t say what; but my notion is that our lives should be so much one that our acts should be clear to each other, and our thoughts should be the same, as far as possible. I am not so stupid as to imagine that we can always control our thoughts, and think only what we _ought_ to think (what a weary world it would be if we could!); but I believe that a man and woman who love each other can, and ought to be honest in their thoughts, and should not keep one which cannot be confided to the twin—twin—what shall I call it?—twin spirit. There; that will do. Funny that I should be talking this way to you, Madge—you have taught it to me.’ His upturned face still wore the frank, boyish expression which it always assumed when he was with her. Madge took her hand from his head and clasped it with the other round her knees, whilst she stared into the fire. ‘It is Aunt Hessy who has taught us both that rule. I, too, believe in it, and mean to follow it. But’—— She stopped, and the fright showed itself in her eyes again by the clear light of the cheerful fire. ‘Why don’t you go on?’ he asked, after a moment of thoughtful silence. ‘Why are you so distressed? Does this confidence, or secret, concern any of us?’ ‘It concerns YOU—and I may not tell you what it is. That is why I am troubled.’ And again she clasped hands over her head, as if to subdue its throbbing. He was thoughtful; and an expression appeared on his face, so like the one often seen on his father’s, that Madge, whose nerves were quickened by her pain, was startled. But he spoke kindly: ‘Have you told—or are you to tell—Aunt Hessy and Uncle Dick?’