‘I should think she do, indeed,’ said Mrs. Milderson, who came in with the tea-tray, having discreetly allowed the lovers time for greeting; ‘and care she shall have, and her beef-tea reglar, and no liberties took, which invalidses’ mistake is always to think they’re well ever so long before they are. There was Mrs. Binks, only the other day, down in the shop serving the Saturday-night customers, which is no better nor Injun American savages in the impatience of their ways, before that blessed baby was three weeks old.’ ‘I think I can rely upon you to take care of both my patients, nurse, while I am away for a few days.’ ‘You are going away, Lucius?’ said Lucille anxiously. ‘Yes, dear; but for two or three days only. I think I may venture to leave you in Mrs. Milderson’s care for that time.’ ‘I should hope you could, sir,’ exclaimed that matron, ‘after having had two years’ experience of me in all capacities—and even the old gentleman up-stairs, which was inclined to be grumpy and standoffish at first, having took to me as he has.’ ‘I shall be quite safe, Lucius,’ said Lucille, ‘but I shall miss you very much.’ ‘It shall be only for a few days, dearest. Nothing but important business would tempt me away from you even for that time.’ ‘Important business, Lucius! What can that be? Is it another visit to that tiresome friend of yours, Mr. Hossack?’ ‘No, dear, it is something which concerns our own future—something which I hope may bring you a new happiness. If I succeed in what I am going to attempt, you shall know all about it, and quickly. If I fail—’ ‘What then, Lucius?’ she asked, as he hesitated. ‘Better that you should never know anything, darling, for then you can feel no disappointment.’ ‘O!’ said Lucille, with a little sigh of resignation. ‘I suppose it is something connected with your professional career, some ambitious project which is to make me very proud of you if you succeed in it. Are you going very far?’ ‘To Rouen.’ ‘Rouen!’ cried Lucille; ‘Rouen in France?’ with as much astonishment as if he had said the centre of Africa. ‘To Rouen, in the department of the lower Seine,’ he answered gaily; with assumed gaiety, for it pained him even to leave her for so brief a span. ‘What can take you to France?’ ‘Simply that ambitious project you spoke of just now. My dearest girl, you look as distressed as if I were going to Australia, when my journey is only a question of three or four days. I shall leave London to-morrow evening, and be in Rouen before noon next day. A day, or at most two days, will, I trust, accomplish my business there. I shall travel at night both ways, so as to save time; and on the fourth day I hope to be back in this dear old parlour drinking tea with you and nurse.’