“We will leave it at that,” I said. “What it all amounts to is this: that you are willing to go back to your former occupation as lady’s-maid in a family.” “That’s it!” “In which capacity you will be able to earn enough to keep the home going.” “What home?” “This home.” “Oh, no!” said my wife. “Oh, dear me, no! I shall earn enough to keep myself going, but I shan’t bother about you. Understand that, once for all.” “Do you mean to look me in the face—” “Sha’n’t allow you a penny,” she declared. “And if you find out where I’m engaged, and call round and begin kicking up a row—” “What then?” “I shall simply come back again,” she announced deliberately, “and make you keep me.” It must have been in consequence of this blow, administered by one who had sworn to love, honour, and obey me, that I began to lose heart. I went into a single room, on the other side of the water, and for a time became interested in political life, devoting myself more particularly to the Sugar Bounty Question. To my astonishment, I found that my brother Edward was paying some attention to a constituency in South London; as I remarked, rather cleverly, he appeared to have succeeded in the world as much as I deserved to do. It became my duty at one of his meetings to put a few searching questions to him. Some of his supporters objected, and cried out to me: “Who are you; who are you?” I shouted back that the candidate could give the information if he cared to do so. “Oh, yes,” said Edward; “he is my brother.” I spoke to him after the meeting, and he introduced me to a slim, good-looking woman—his wife. I remarked, in her presence, that he appeared to have found out Miss Charlesworth, as I had done; he replied that he had not only found her out, but that he had married her. My amazed look caused Mrs. Edward to declare she had rarely received such a genuine compliment, and that it more than repaid her for the course of persistent exercise on which she had engaged. She added they had made efforts to discover me—I knew how much to believe of that—and exhibited surprise on hearing that I was married. “We particularly wanted to find you,” remarked my brother Edward, “about six months ago.” “Let me see,” I said. “Where was I six months ago? Busy, I expect. What did you want me for?” “Mother died.” “Wish I’d known,” I said. “I would have sent a wreath. Got a cigarette?” He turned away rather sharply, and then turned to me again. “She wanted to see you,” he remarked. And they both gave their attention to some one else.