uld be able to pay her enough to set off against her
increased expenses.'

Smoking calmly, Tarrant shook his head.

'Impracticable. Do you mean that this place is too dull for you?'

'It isn't lively, but I wasn't thinking of the place. If _you_ lived
here, it would be all I should wish.'

'That sounds so prettily from your lips, Nancy, that I'm half ashamed
to contradict it. But the truth is that you can only say such things
because we live apart. Don't deceive yourself. With a little more money,
this life of ours would be as nearly perfect as married life ever can
be.'

Nancy remembered a previous occasion when he spoke to the same purpose.
But it was in the time she did not like to think of, and in spite of
herself the recollection troubled her.

'You must have more variety,' he added. 'Next year you shall come into
town much oftener--'

'I'm not thinking of that. I always like going anywhere with you; but I
have plenty of occupations and pleasures at home.--I think we ought to
be under the same roof.'

'Ought? Because Mrs. Tomkins would cry _haro_! if her husband the
greengrocer wasn't at her elbow day and night?'

'Have more patience with me. I didn't mean _ought_ in the vulgar
sense--I have as little respect for Mrs. Tomkins as you have. I don't
want to interfere with your liberty for a moment; indeed it would be
very foolish, for I know that it would make you detest me. But I so
often want to speak to you--and--and then, I can't quite feel that you
acknowledge me as your wife so long as I am away.'

Tarrant nodded.

'I quite understand. The social difficulty. Well, there's no doubt it is
a difficulty; I feel it on your account. I wish it were possible for
you to be invited wherever I am. Some day it will be, if I don't get run
over in the Strand; but--'

'I should like the invitations,' Nancy broke in, 'but you still don't
understand me.'

'Yes, I think I do. You are a woman, and it's quite impossible for a
woman to see this matter as a man does. Nancy, there is not one wife in
fifty thousand who retains her husband's love after the first year of
marriage. Put aside the fools and the worthless; think only of women
with whom you might be compared--brave, sensible, pure-hearted; they can
win love, but don't know how to keep it.'

'Why not put it the other way about, and say that men can love to begin
with, but so soon grow careless?'

'Because I am myself an instance to the contrary.'

Nancy s