"Why, sir, if you'll pardon the remark, that sounds like nonsense, for you have had no chance to be together so far. I can tell you I was thankful when I was once safe in the train with her this morning. I felt, even if she has to go back to bed the minute she gets home, home is the proper place for her, any way of it. And though she was leaving her little sister and all, she seemed to cheer up when we were off; and I know she felt a relief when we had got through London and were fair on our way. We had to steal out of the house as careful as anything, for Miss Pansy was not started for the parade front, it being so early. Fortunately, Mr. Tony was off for the day with his friend." "Tony? Was the boy there?" "Oh, yes, sir, for the whole time, and the last week we were in London as well." Gaunt was surprised. No room or board for Tony had been charged in any of the minutely kept accounts which he had received. He made no comment, however, and the maid crossed the room and gazed once more upon the sleeping girl. "Don't you think she looks bonny, sir?" she asked timidly; and was reassured when Gaunt's eyes met her own in friendly approval. "She's more lovely than ever, Grover," he replied, to her immense gratification. "You might carry her upstairs, sir," she suggested; "you can do it easy, can't you?" His face changed. "No," he said decidedly, "it would startle her. You had better rouse her, please, if you want her to go with you now." He walked away to the window, and stood in the empty space for which he had designed the statue of Love. Grover sent a keen, vexed glance after him. "Silly thing," was her disrespectful inward comment. "Why is he so plaguey shy of his own wife?" "She'll have to get used to you, sir," she ventured after a pause, her heart in her mouth. "It must be by degree," he answered, speaking with his back towards her. With a shrug of her shoulders, having ventured all and more than all she dare, she bent over Virginia and aroused her. The grey cat bounded to the floor, hunching his back and stretching his legs in the heat of the glowing logs. "Oh!" cried Virgie, springing to her feet, "I went to sleep while Mr. Gaunt was playing!" "The greatest tribute you could pay me, since I played a lullaby," remarked her husband, strolling up. * * * * * Next morning, though it was still cold, autumnal weather, the sun was shining. Gaunt could hardly believe his eyes when Virgie ran into the dining-room at the summons of the breakfast gong, looking as fresh and gay as the morning. The contrast between what was in his heart, and his cool, undemonstrative greeting, struck him as so grotesque that he almost laughed.