Ronnie wrote it--a joyous smile on his lips and in his eyes.

"It sounds so near," he said. "After seven long months--it sounds so
near!"

"Now," said Aubrey, "give it to me. I will take it out for you. I know
an office where one can hand in wires at any hour."

"You _are_ a good fellow," said Ronnie gratefully.

"And now look here," continued Aubrey. "Before I go, you must turn into
bed, old chap. You need sleep more than you know. I can do a little
prescribing myself. I am going to give you a dose of sleeping stuff
which brought me merciful oblivion, after long nights of maddening
wakefulness. You will feel another man, when you wake in the morning.
But I am coming with you to the Hague. I can tend the Infant, while you
go to the publishers. I will see you safely on board at the Hook, on the
following evening, and next day you will be at home. After all those
months alone in the long grass, you don't want any more solitary
travelling. Now come to bed."

Ronnie rose unsteadily. "Aubrey," he said, "you are a most awfully good
fellow. I shall tell Helen. She will--will--will be so--so grateful. I'm
perfectly all right, you know; but other people seem so--so busy,
and--and--so vague. You will help me to--to--to--arrest their attention.
I must take the Infant to bed."

"Yes, yes," said Aubrey; "we will find a cosy place for the Infant. If
Helen were here she would provide a bassinet. Don't forget that joke. It
will amuse Helen. I make you a present of it. _If Helen were here she
would provide a bassinet and a pram for the Infant of Prague_."

Ronnie laughed. "I shall tell Helen you said so." Then, carrying the
'cello, he lurched unsteadily through the doorway. The Infant's head had
a narrow escape.

* * * * *

Aubrey Treherne sent off the telegram. He required to alter only one
word.

When it reached Helen, the next morning at breakfast, it read thus:
_Owing to astonishing news in letter prefer to meet you quietly at home.
All well. Coming by 3 o'clock train. Home to tea_.--_Ronald_.

Helen suffered a sharp pang of disappointment. She had expected
something quite different. The adjective "astonishing" seemed strangely
cold and unlike Ronnie. She had thought he would say "wonderful," or
"unbelievable," or "glorious."

But before she had finished her first cup of coffee, she had reasoned
herself back into complete content. Ronnie, in an unusual fit of
thoughtfulness, had reme