A few months later I met Mary, and in a month she had promised to be my wife. I can see her yet as she stood before me with downcast head, and the pink flush on her cheek. She lifted her eyes to mine, and the look in them was my answer. A few months afterwards we were married, and almost immediately sailed for India. I give my word that I meant all that a man should mean for his wife. But one cannot live in the world and look on things in the same light as an innocent woman. I had buried all the past, as I thought, forever. Myra Cantilivre was dead to me, but she had done her work. It was an effort to me always to live in the pure air of Mary's thoughts, and one day I said something on board the steamer that jarred on my wife. It was a comedown from cloudland, and was the first little rift within the lute. I pulled myself up, however, and smoothed it over. Then the scheme which I worked out took its birth in my mind. If there was to be any happiness in our future life, Mary must either come down to my level or I must go up to hers. I had tried and failed. There was nothing for it but to bring her down. This fine sensitiveness of hers necessitated my having to play the hypocrite forever. Then again I did not like to unveil myself. Every man likes to be a hero to his wife. I suppose she finds him out, however, sooner or later. Perhaps it would be better to let Mary find out gradually. It would in effect be carrying out my programme in the best possible way. Now, I had hitherto concealed from Mary the fact that I was in debt; but something happened at Simla, soon after we reached there, that necessitated her knowing this. There was another little difference. It was not, Mary said, the matter of the debt, but the fact of my concealing it, that hurt her. She brought up in minute detail little plans of mine, sketched without consideration of the bonds of my creditors, and put them in such a manner that it appeared as if I had told untruths to her regarding myself. The confession has to be made: they were practically untruths; but a man during his courtship, and the first weeks of his married life, has often to say things which would not bear scrutiny. My wife showed she had a retentive memory, and, for a girl, a very clear and incisive way of putting things. The storm passed over at last, and then Mary set herself to put my disordered affairs to rights. Debts had to be paid, and rigid economy was the order of the day; but coming back to Simla meant coming back to the old things. I tried to second Mary's efforts to the best of my ability; but I felt I couldn't last long. I met Mrs. Cantilivre one evening at Viceregal Lodge. She received me like an old friend, and begged to be introduced to Mary. She made only one reference to what had been: "And so, Dick, the past is all forgotten?" "It is good to forget, Mrs. Cantilivre; and I am now hedged in with all kinds of fortifications."