“In this case it is forty-two,” I put in drily, my sense of humour not being entirely in abeyance. “Well! or forty-two. Anyway you will admit I took a hint very quickly. I am going to leave you alone with your Corydon.” “Caliban!” “He is not bad-looking really, it is only his clothes. And if anything comes of it you will send him to Poole’s. Anyway his feet and hands are all right, and there is a certain grace about his ungainliness.” “Really, Ella, I can’t bear any more. Love runs in your head; feeds your activities, agrees with you. But as for me, I’ve long outgrown it. I am tired, old, ill. Peter Kennedy is just not objectionable. Other doctors are. He is honest, simple....” “I will hear all about his qualities next time I come. Only don’t think you are deceiving me. God bless you, dear.” She turned suddenly serious. “You know I would not go if you wanted me to stop or if I were uneasy about you any more. You know I will come down again at any moment you want me. I shall miss my train if I don’t rush. Can I send you anything? I won’t forget the sofa rug, and if you think of anything else....” Her maid knocked at the door and said the flyman had called up to say she must come at once. Her last words were: “Well, good-bye again, and tell him I give my consent. Tell him he gave the show away himself. I have known about it ever since the first night I was here when he told me what an interesting woman you were....” “Good-bye ... thanks for everything. I’m sorry you’ve got that mad idea in your silly head....” She was gone. I heard her voice outside the window giving directions to the man and then the crunch of the fly wheels on the gravel as she was driven away. CHAPTER IV