So Regina went on her way and she got married. I don't say that it was a brilliant alliance--by no means. The man was young, younger than Regina. He was weak-looking and pretty, of a pink-and-white, wax-doll type, with shining fair hair and rather watery blue eyes. To his weakness Regina's dominant nature strongly appealed; perhaps, also, in some measure the fact that she was the sole child of her father's house, and that her father lived upon his means, and described himself as "gentleman" in the various papers connected with the politics of his country which from time to time reached him. Be that as it may, an engagement came about between Regina Brown and this young man, who was "something in the city" and who rejoiced in the name of Alfred Whittaker. I must confess that it was somewhat of a shock to Regina when she found that among his fellows--young, vapid, rather raffish young men--he was known by the abbreviative of "Alf." "Dearest," she said to him one day, after this unpalatable information had come to her, "I noticed that your friend, Mr. Fitzsimmons, called you 'Alf' last night." "Yes, the fellows mostly do," he replied. "But you were not called Alf at home, dearest," said Regina. She laid her substantial hand upon his arm and looked at him yearningly. "My mother and my sisters always called me Alfie," said he, returning the gaze with interest, for he admired Regina with an admiration which was wholly genuine. "I really couldn't call you Alfie," she said. "I don't see why you couldn't, Regina," he replied. "It seems to me such an awful thing for people who love one another to be saying 'Regina' and 'Alfred.' There is something so chilly about it. Did your people never call you by a pet name?" "Never," said Regina. "I should like to," said Alfred, still more yearningly. "If you can think of a pet name that will not be derogatory to my dignity--" Regina began, when the weak and weedy Alfred insinuated an arm about her ample waist and drew her nearer to him. Without some effort on the part of Regina Brown, I doubt if his intention could have been carried into effect, but Regina yielded herself to his tenderness with a shy coyness which was sufficiently marked to have merited even the pet name of Tiny. "What would you like me to call you--Alfred?" she asked, with the faintest possible pause before the last word. "Call me Alfie," said he in manly and imperative tones. "Dear Alfie!" said Regina. "Darling!" said Alfie. "You couldn't call me darling as a name," said Regina, coyly. "I shall always call you darling," he gurgled. "But I should like, as a name, to call you Queenie." "You shall call me Anna Maria Stubbs if you like," said Regina, with a sudden surrender of her dignity. And forthwith, from that moment, between themselves she was known no longer by her real name, but sank into a state of hopeless adoration, and was called Queenie. CHAPTER II MRS. ALFRED WHITTAKER