‘George, do you think it is quite right, all this deception? Wouldn’t it be better to say you were married, but your wife would never, never interfere with you?’ ‘Dear little baby-wife, no. Don’t you see what fun we’re all going to have? Women never have scruples about anything on their own account, but they are always full of them when they think their husbands are risking the purity of their moral characters.’ ‘Now you are laughing at me, George, but really----’ ‘No more buts. I’m dead tired,’ and he yawned as he turned out the light. * * * * * ‘He is a delightful man,’ said Lady Kirkdale, as she leaned back in the corner of the railway carriage after making a charming bow to George Travers, who stood on the platform watching their departure from Datchet station. ‘And the house is a perfect gem of exquisite taste.’ ‘He is much nicer than I thought at first,’ said Geraldine. ‘It was too bad of you, Stephen, to stay behind, and let him do all the work. Punting two women about must be most wearisome.’ ‘I fancy Travers likes punting; he knows he has a good figure. I didn’t want to spoil the effect,’ rejoined Stephen. ‘That’s the first time I’ve heard you speak a word against him,’ said Lady Kirkdale. ‘One stands up for a fellow as long as he’s being abused by one’s people, of course, but when they begin to appreciate him one can slack off a little.’ ‘What is the matter with you, Stephen?’ ‘Oh, nothing--I’m tired, that’s all.’ In the meantime George Travers rebalanced the dogcart, fondled the horse, lighted a cigar, and drove slowly back to The Oaks. It certainly had been a successful day for him. His was one of those natures which delighted in gorgeous dreams. He felt realities to be most inadequate, he hated them. Just as he had mounted the winged steed of his imagination, some dirty little fact was always seizing the reins, and dragging him down to earth; but to-day everything had gone smoothly.