Mrs. Halidon recovered slowly after the birth of her child: the return to America was deferred for six months, and then again for a whole year. I heard of the Halidons as established first at Biarritz, then in Rome. The second summer Ned wrote me a line from St. Moritz. He said the place agreed so well with his wife--who was still delicate--that they were "thinking of building a house there: a mere cleft in the rocks, to hide our happiness in when it becomes too exuberant"--and the rest of the letter, very properly, was filled with a rhapsody upon his little daughter. He spoke of her as Paula. The following year the Halidons reappeared in New York, and I heard with surprise that they had taken the Brereton house for the winter. "Well, why not?" I argued with myself. "After all, the money is hers: as far as I know the will didn't even hint at a restriction. Why should I expect a pretty woman with two children" (for now there was an heir) "to spend her fortune on a visionary scheme that its originator hadn't the heart to carry out?" "Yes," cried the devil's advocate--"but Ned?" My first impression of Halidon was that he had thickened--thickened all through. He was heavier, physically, with the ruddiness of good living rather than of hard training; he spoke more deliberately, and had less frequent bursts of subversive enthusiasm. Well, he was a father, a householder--yes, and a capitalist now. It was fitting that his manner should show a sense of these responsibilities. As for Mrs. Halidon, it was evident that the only responsibilities she was conscious of were those of the handsome woman and the accomplished hostess. She was handsomer than ever, with her two babies at her knee--perfect mother as she was perfect wife. Poor Paul! I wonder if he ever dreamed what a flower was hidden in the folded bud? Not long after their arrival, I dined alone with the Halidons, and lingered on to smoke with Ned while his wife went alone to the opera. He seemed dull and out of sorts, and complained of a twinge of gout. "Fact is, I don't get enough exercise--I must look about for a horse." He had gone afoot for a good many years, and kept his clear skin and quick eye on that homely regimen--but I had to remind myself that, after all, we were both older; and also that the Halidons had champagne every evening. "How do you like these cigars? They're some I've just got out from London, but I'm not quite satisfied with them myself," he grumbled, pushing toward me the silver box and its attendant taper. I leaned to the flame, and our eyes met as I lit my cigar. Ned flushed and laughed uneasily. "Poor Paul! Were you thinking of those execrable weeds of his?--I wonder how I knew you were? Probably because I have been wanting to talk to you of our plan--I sent Daisy off alone so that we might have a quiet evening. Not that she isn't interested, only the technical details bore her." I hesitated. "Are there many technical details left to settle?"