'I leave it entirely to you. You remember our last talk before we came away. You have simply to ask yourself what your needs are. Be honest with yourself and with me. Don't sacrifice life to a whim, one way or the other. You have had plenty of time to think; you have known several ways of life; you're old enough to understand yourself. Just make up your mind, and act.' 'But it's ridiculous, Harvey, to speak as if I had only myself to consider.' 'I don't want you to do so. But supposing that were your position, now, after all your experience, where would you choose to live?' He constrained her to answer, and at length she spoke, with a girlish diffidence which seemed to him very charming. 'I like the concerts--and I like to be near my musical friends--and I don't think it's at all necessary to give up one's rational way of living just because one is in London instead of far away.' 'Precisely. That means we ought to come back.' 'Not if you do it unwillingly.' 'I'll be frank in my turn. For Hughie's sake, I don't think we ought to live in the town; but it's easy enough to find healthy places just outside.' 'I shouldn't wish to be actually in the town,' said Alma, her voice tremulous with pleasure. 'You know where the Leaches are living?' 'Yes. Or just a little farther away, on the higher ground. Very well, let us regard _that_ as settled.' 'But you, dear--could you live there?' 'Well enough. It's all the same to me if I have my books, and a field to walk in--and if you don't want me to see too many women.' Alma laughed gaily, and had done with semblance of hesitation. They began to search for a house, and in a week's time had found one, newly built, which seemed to answer their requirements. It was at Pinner, not many minutes by rail from Alma's friends at Kingsbury-Neasden, and only about half an hour from Baker Street--'so convenient for the concerts'. A new house might be damp, but the summer months were hastening to dry it, and they would not enter into residence before the end of autumn. 'We must go and enjoy our heather,' said Alma brightly. The rent was twice what Harvey had been paying; there was no stabling, but Alma agreed that they ought not to keep a horse, for naturally there would be 'other expenses'. Other expenses, to be sure. But Harvey signed the three years' lease without misgiving. A large surplus lay in hand after the 'simple life' in Carnarvonshire, and his position was not that of men who have extravagant wives. CHAPTER 5