"Well, at any rate, you can't have much adventure now!" It was Mrs Francis Manning who spoke, the faint Cockney twang of her voice sounding discordantly in contrast to the cultured tones of her companions. "Children are such a tie. We have four, and I never seem to have a free hour. And to live in the country, too. It's a good thing you had some adventure when you were young, for there's no chance of it now." "I deny it!" cried Juliet, hotly. "I deny it. Can anything in the world be more adventurous than to start a new home, and a new generation, to have six young lives entrusted to one to train for the world's service? Think what those six lives may mean, multiplying into fresh lives, spreading influence wherever they go! There are no such adventures in life, as marriage and parent-ship, if one can only see them in the right light, and keep on seeing..." She gave a little laugh, half shy, half apologetic, a trifle ashamed of her own intensity. "Ah, well! it's adventurous enough to have a pack of boys who ate learning to ride, learning to shoot, trying to copy everything that their father can do to-day, hobbling home almost every day of the week with cuts and bruises, and breaks and sprains. I have all the adventure that I need, and,--what shall I say? Only this, that I enjoy it even more than I expected!" She stopped, panting, and her husband smiled at her across the room, and silently clapped his hands. "I beg to second the motion!" he said gravely, and there was a general stir of laughter. It was pleasant to meet a couple of the good old-fashioned type which was yearly becoming more rare. Every person in the room felt a sincere respect for Captain and Mrs Antony Maplestone. "Well, of course--if you put it like that," said Mrs Manning doubtfully, "I'm sure I've always done my best to be a good mother, and the girls go to school now, which makes it easier, but with the boy being blind--well, naturally, it's a tie! My husband tells me he wished for Comfort, and there's no doubt but he's got it. We're not rich, of course, but comfortable, quite comfortable. He's only to express a wish, and it's there for him, and I keep a first-rate cook. But as I said to him only to-day, he doesn't give himself a chance. Always slaving and worrying for someone else, particularly for the boy, even now when he is getting quite big, and able to do for himself. It's wonderful how clever blind people become! Of course we all want to be helpful, but, as I say, there _is_ a medium course, and everyone notices how Frank has altered these last years. If you remember he used to be quite stout--"