“Oh, don’t be nonsensical,” she said. “Your father isn’t the only man married to a woman not as clever as himself. He isn’t going to let that stop him. And your mother’s going to learn to be the wife of a great man and do the best she can. And if they don’t like her they’ve got to put up with her. I shall talk to the both of them.” A wave of motherliness towards the entire Phillips family passed over her. It included Hilda. She caught the child to her and gave her a hug. “You go back to school,” she said, “and get on as fast as you can, so that you’ll be able to be useful to him.” “And you will come and stay with me,” persisted the little Frenchman, “when this affair is finished”—he made an impatient gesture with his hands. “My wife takes much interest. She will be delighted.”!

“Why couldn’t you have married?” asked Joan. “You haven’t seen me,” came at last in a thin, broken voice.

“What do you mean by got to do it?” exclaimed Miss Ensor. “Who’s making him do it, except himself?” “I want you to give me up that box,” she said, “and to come away with me where I can be with you and take care of you until you are well.” “I always was a one for cheerful colours,” explained Mrs. Phillips.