“A lady strongly recommends her German nursery governess. Good English. Fluent French. Music. Fond of children. Salary very moderate. A good home principal object. Well-connected.--Mrs T., The Manor House, Southam Parva.” Well-connected! I looked over to Charley with some sort of a smile. “The good English is, of course, all right?” I said. “Isn’t it an infernal shame?” he broke out. “She won’t stay a week after that!” “It may bring an engagement,” said I. “Look here, do you think it’s my fault?” “I’m glad she says Fräulein is well-connected.” “Do you think it’s my fault? I--I’ve tried to play square--by her as well as by myself.” “I don’t think we need discuss the Princess.” “Hallo, Treg!” “Good heavens!--I--I beg pardon! I mean--why need we talk about Fräulein’s affairs?” “I was talking about mine.” “I see no connection.” He was not angry with me, though (as will have been seen) I had lost my temper hopelessly and disastrously. He got up and stood in front of the fire. “I hadn’t the pluck, Treg, my boy,” he said. His voice sounded rather dreary, but I had no leisure to pity him. “Good Heavens, do you suppose she’d have looked at you?” I cried. “Remember who she is!” “That’s all very well, but facts are facts,” said Charley Miles. “I didn’t mean to make trouble, Treg, old boy. On my honour, I didn’t.” He made a long pause. “I hope I shall be asking you to congratulate me soon, Treg,” he went on. “Ask me in public, and I’ll do it.” “That’s just being vicious,” he complained, and with entire justice. “Bessie’s a first-rate girl.” “I’m very sorry, Charley. So she is. She’ll suit you a mile better than--than Fräulein.” He brightened up. “I’m awfully glad you do think me right in the end,” he said. “But I’m a bit sorry for Fräulein. She’d have had to go soon, anyhow--when the children got a bit older. She’ll get a berth, I expect.” “No doubt,” said I. “And I’ll congratulate you even in private, Charley.” “You’re a decent old chap, but you’ve got a queer temper. I don’t above half understand you, Treg.” He hesitated a little. “I say, you might go and have a talk with Fräulein some day. She likes you, you know.” “Does she?” The eager words leapt from my lips before I could stop them. “Rather! Will you go?” “Yes. I’ll have a talk with Fräulein.” “Before she goes?” “She’ll go soon?” “I think so.” “Yes, before she goes, Charley.”