“Where are you staying?” she asked. “Oh, I’m putting up at the _Inns of Court_--I always go there.” “I thought you might care to go to the theatre to-night. I’ve got a box, so that Aunt Polly and Gerald can come too.” “I’m game for anything you like.” “You always were the best-tempered man,” said Bertha, smiling gently. “You don’t seem to care very much for my society, all the same.” Bertha looked up quickly. “What makes you think that?” “Well, you’re a precious long time coming back to Court Leys,” he replied, laughing. Bertha was relieved, for evidently he was not taking the matter seriously. She had not the courage to say that she meant never to return: the endless explanation, his wonder, the impossibility of making him understand, were more than she could bear. “When are you coming back? We all miss you, like anything.” “Do you?” she said. “I really don’t know. We’ll see after the season.” “What? Aren’t you coming for another couple of months?” “I don’t think Blackstable suits me very well. I’m always ill there.” “Oh, nonsense. It’s the finest air in England. Deathrate practically _nil_.” “D’you think our life was very happy, Edward?” She looked at him anxiously to see how he would take the tentative remark: but he was only astonished. “Happy? Yes, rather. Of course we had our little tiffs. All people do. But they were chiefly at first, the road was a bit rough and we hadn’t got our tyres properly blown out. I’m sure I’ve got nothing to complain about.” “That of course is the chief thing,” said Bertha. “You look as well as anything now. I don’t see why you shouldn’t come back.” “Well, we’ll see later. We shall have plenty of time to talk it over.” She was afraid to speak the words on the tip of her tongue; it would be easier by correspondence. “I wish you’d give some fixed date--so that I could have things ready, and tell people.” “It depends upon Aunt Polly; I really can’t say for certain. I’ll write to you.” They kept silence for a moment and then an idea seized Bertha. “What d’you say to going to the Natural History Museum? Don’t you remember, we went there on our honeymoon? I’m sure it would amuse you to see it again.” “Would you like to go?” asked Edward. “I’m sure it would amuse you,” she replied. * * * * * Next day while Bertha was shopping with her husband, Gerald and Miss Ley sat alone. “Are you very disconsolate without Bertha?” she asked. “Utterly miserable!” “That’s very rude to me, dear boy.” “I’m awfully sorry, but I can never be polite to more than one person at a time: and I’ve been using up all my good manners on--Mr. Craddock.” “I’m glad you like him,” replied Miss Ley, smiling. “I don’t!” “He’s a very worthy man.” “If I hadn’t seen Bertha for six months, I shouldn’t take her off at once to see bugs.” “Perhaps it was Bertha’s suggestion.” “She must find Mr. Craddock precious dull if she prefers blackbeetles and stuffed kangaroos.”