hat could be more easily realised, he felt himself uncommonly
well-to-do. They talked often of the future. Philip was anxious that
Mildred should keep the child with her, but she refused: she had her
living to earn, and it would be more easy to do this if she had not also
to look after a baby. Her plan was to get back into one of the shops of
the company for which she had worked before, and the child could be put
with some decent woman in the country.

"I can find someone who'll look after it well for seven and sixpence a
week. It'll be better for the baby and better for me."

It seemed callous to Philip, but when he tried to reason with her she
pretended to think he was concerned with the expense.

"You needn't worry about that," she said. "I shan't ask YOU to pay for
it."

"You know I don't care how much I pay."

At the bottom of her heart was the hope that the child would be
still-born. She did no more than hint it, but Philip saw that the thought
was there. He was shocked at first; and then, reasoning with himself, he
was obliged to confess that for all concerned such an event was to be
desired.

"It's all very fine to say this and that," Mildred remarked querulously,
"but it's jolly difficult for a girl to earn her living by herself; it
doesn't make it any easier when she's got a baby."

"Fortunately you've got me to fall back on," smiled Philip, taking her
hand.

"You've been good to me, Philip."

"Oh, what rot!"

"You can't say I didn't offer anything in return for what you've done."

"Good heavens, I don't want a return. If I've done anything for you, I've
done it because I love you. You owe me nothing. I don't want you to do
anything unless you love me."

He was a little horrified by her feeling that her body was a commodity
which she could deliver indifferently as an acknowledgment for services
rendered.

"But I do want to, Philip. You've been so good to me."

"Well, it won't hurt for waiting. When you're all right again we'll go for
our little honeymoon."

"You are naughty," she said, smiling.

Mildred expected to be confined early in March, and as soon as she was
well enough she was to go to the seaside for a fortnight: that would give
Philip a chance to work without interruption for his examination; after
that came the Easter holidays, and they had arranged to go to Paris
together. Philip talked endlessly of the things they would do. Paris was
delightful then. They would take a room in