'Shall I tell you something I have in mind?' he said at length, with deliberation. 'Hughie, you know, is three years old. Pauline does very well with him, but it is time that he had companions--other children. In half a year or so he might go to a kindergarten, and'--he made an instant's pause--'I know only of one which would be really good for him. I think he will have to go to Mrs. Abbott.' Their eyes met, and the speaker's were steadily fixed. 'But the distance?' objected Alma. 'Yes. If we want to do that, we must go to Gunnersbury.' Alma's look fell. She tapped with her foot and meditated, slightly frowning. But, before Harvey spoke again, the muscles of her face relaxed, and she turned to him with a smile, as though some reflection had brought relief. 'You wouldn't mind the bother of moving?' 'What is that compared with Hughie's advantage? And if one lives in London, it's in the nature of things to change houses once a year or so.' 'But we don't live in London!' returned Alma, with a laugh. 'Much the same thing. At Gunnersbury you would be nearer to everything, you know.' 'Then you would send away Pauline?' Harvey made a restless movement, and gave a husky cough. 'Well, I don't know. You see, Hughie would be with Mrs. Abbott only a few hours each day. Who is to look after the little man at other times? I suppose I can't very well undertake it myself--though I'm glad to see as much of him as possible; and I won't let him be with a servant. So----' Alma was gazing at the fire, and seemed to give only a divided attention to what her husband said. Her eyes grew wide; their vision, certainly, was of nothing that disturbed or disheartened her. 'You have given me two things to think about, Harvey. Will you reflect on the _one_ that I suggested?' 'Then you meant it seriously?' 'I meant that I should like to have your serious opinion about it. Only we won't talk now. I am very tired, and you, I'm sure, oughtn't to sit late with your bad throat. I promise to consider _both_ the things you mentioned.' She held her hands to him charmingly, and kissed his cheek as she said goodnight. Harvey lingered for another hour, and--of all people in the world--somehow found himself thinking of Buncombe. Buncombe, his landlord in the big dirty house by Royal Oak. What had become of Buncombe? It would be amusing, some day to look at the old house and see if Buncombe still lived there. CHAPTER 7