"Wouldn't it?" she asked piteously. "Oh! James, don't say no like that, all at once! People do forgive each other--sometimes. I don't ask you to be as kind to me as you were before; only to let me come home and see after the children!" But Mr. Tapster shook his head. The children! Always the children! He noticed, even now, that she didn't say a word of wanting to come back to _him_; and yet he had been such a kind, nay, if Maud were to be believed, such a foolishly indulgent, husband. And then Flossy looked so different. Mr. Tapster felt as if a stranger were standing there before him. Her appearance of poverty shocked him. Had she looked well and prosperous, he would have felt injured, and yet her pinched face and shabby clothes certainly repelled him. So again he shook his head, and there came into his face a look which Flossy had always known in the old days to spell finality; when he again spoke she saw that her knowledge had not misled her. "I don't want to be unkind," he said ponderously. "If you will only go to William, or write to him if you would rather not go to the office,"--Mr. Tapster did not like to think that anyone once closely connected with him should "look like that" in his brother's office,--"he will tell you what you had better do. I'm quite ready to make you a handsome allowance--in fact, it's all arranged. You need not have anything more to do with that fellow's father--an Army Colonel, isn't he?--and his pound a week; but William thinks, and I must say I agree, that you ought to go back to your maiden name, Flossy, as being more fair to me." "And am I never to see the children again?" she asked. "No; it wouldn't be right for me to let you do so." He hesitated, then added, "They don't miss you any more now,"--with no unkindly intent he concluded, "soon they'll have forgotten you altogether." And then, just as Mr. Tapster was hesitating, seeking for a suitable and not unkindly sentence of farewell, he saw a very strange, almost a desperate, look come over Flossy's face, and, to his surprise, she suddenly turned and left the room, closing the door very carefully behind her. He stared after her. How very odd of her to say nothing! And what a queer look had come over her face! He could not help feeling hurt that she had not thanked him for what he knew to be a very generous and unusual provision on the part of an injured husband.... Mr. Tapster took a silk handkerchief out of his pocket and passed it twice over his face, then once more he sought and sank into the armchair by the fire. Even now he still felt keenly conscious of Flossy's nearness. What could she be doing? Then he straightened himself and listened.