“He’s away, that young fellar of yours—he’s up and away. Always knew he had the stuff, from the day when I ran off with him in a station fly and talked fairies under the trees. He’s learnt—knew he would, and he has. Oh! he’s learnt well! Wouldn’t mind laying a fiver he’s taken a share of his knowledge from you.” “That’s nice of you.” “Not a bit—common sense! Tell you what, though—’tween us two—that speech was a mistake. Cheap and nasty! Drop him a hint, there’s a clever girl, to cut all that stuff right out.” Eve smiled. “Have you ever tried to drop Wynne hints about things like that?” “I’ve thrown him a slab of wisdom from time to time. Not that kind, perhaps. But that’s what I say—_you_ tell him. You’ve the opportunity. Ha!” He threw up his head. “That’s one of the good things in life that I’ve missed.” “What is?” “To have some one who, in the night, will touch my foot with her littlest toe and breathe over the pillow all the naughty mistakes I’ve made during the day.” “I see,” said Eve. Something in her tone discouraged him. “’Course that mayn’t be the way it’s done; I’ve no experience, but I’ve fondly imagined it was so.” “So have I,” said Eve; “but, like yourself, I have no experience.” “What d’you say?” “If I stretched out my littlest toe I should bump it against the partition wall. That would be very sad, wouldn’t it?” Uncle Clem stopped short. “Are you serious?” “Yes. Don’t you remember our wedding talk?” “Remember it!” He began to walk very fast, so fast that she could scarcely keep pace with him. At last he jerked out the question: “That travesty holds good, then? That’s why, on the night of his success, you’re walking home alone ’stead of feasting at a top-notch restaurant. Good God! And I’ve been shaking hands with myself these four hours past that my gloomy forebodings hadn’t come true—but, damn it! they have.” “No,” exclaimed Eve, “you mustn’t say that; it isn’t so.” “But it is.” “No. The success was to come first. You remember we said so that day.” “Well, what’s wrong with tonight’s success?—and you’re walking home alone.” “Yes, tonight he has found himself.” “And left you behind.” “I don’t want to say that. I beg you not to say things like that. They hurt so.” In an instant he was all sympathy. “Why, my dear, don’t heed me. You understand the boy, and I’m only an onlooker who gets a glimpse here and there. That’s how it seemed to me at a snapshot glance—but I may be wrong. I don’t know what I’m talking about half the time. I love that husband of yours, he has such a splendid pluck.” “Yes, he’s been so splendid, Uncle Clem—you must believe that. Never for an instant has he spared himself. He’s worked—worked—worked. That’s why he came out so finely tonight.” “I know. But though a man does not spare himself he must always spare others—that’s the great science of life. Haven’t you worked too?” “We’ve been partners, as we said we’d be until success was ours. And now he’s made the success, and—”