"That's just what I am saying. I proposed the house in town to keep you quiet--to keep you from criticising me. You had got into a way of criticising me about the time of the fire, and I hated being criticised. So I thought, 'She shall have her own way if she'll only let me have mine;' and it seems you thought something of the same kind, for you became very indulgent with me. That has been our mistake, Helena." "But _was_ it such a mistake after all, darling? Have we not been very happy all these years? I remember we were not so happy just when the militia began. You were not so nice with me as you have been since." "Perhaps not--and you weren't as nice with me either, Helena; but we were nearer being right then than we ever have been during the last few years. I mean to say that, if we had said plainly to each other then--in a kind sort of way, of course--what each was thinking, we should have spared each other a great deal of suffering." "We have suffered very little, love; we have been very happy." "The punishment is yet to come. I've been punished, in my mind, for years past, and said nothing about it to you, because I wanted partly to spare you, and partly to screen myself, for I thought I could bring things round again." "Do you mean about money?" "Yes." "Well, but, dear, you always told me that there had been no diminution in our income. Did you not tell me the truth?" "All that was perfectly true. The income was not diminished, but the new investments weren't as safe as the old ones. Don't you see, we had less capital to get our income from, and our expenses were even heavier than they used to be. So I invested at higher interest, to make up the difference in our income, and I've been carrying that on to an extent you know nothing about."