mieux--Mr. Wilkins knew what
was necessary in French--with Lady Caroline. He had been much
tormented during the day by the thought of how he had stood conversing
with Lady Caroline forgetful of his not being dressed, and had at last
written her a note most deeply apologizing, and beseeching her to
overlook his amazing, his incomprehensible obliviousness, to which she
had replied in pencil on the back of the envelop, "Don't worry." And
he had obeyed her commands, and had put it from him. The result was he
was now in great contentment. Before going to sleep that night he
pinched his wife's ear. She was amazed. These endearments . . .

What is more, the morning brought no relapse in Mr. Wilkins, and
he kept up to his high level through out the day, in spite of its being
the first day of the second week, and therefore pay day.

It being pay day precipitated Lotty's confession, which she had,
when it came to the point, been inclined to put off a little longer.
She was not afraid, she dared anything, but Mellersh was in such an
admirable humour--why risk clouding it just yet? When, however, soon
after breakfast Costanza appeared with a pile of very dirty little bits
of paper covered with sums in pencil, and having knocked at Mrs.
Fisher's door and been sent away, and at Lady Caroline's door and been
sent away, and at Rose's door and had no answer because Rose had gone
out, she waylaid Lotty, who was showing Mellersh over the house, and
pointed to the bits of paper and talked very rapidly and loud, and
shrugged her shoulders a great deal, and kept on pointing at the bits
of paper, Lotty remembered that a week had passed without anybody
paying anything to anyone, and that the moment had come to settle up.

"Does this good lady want something?" inquired Mr. Wilkins
mellifluously.

"Money," said Lotty.

"Money?"

"It's the housekeeping bills."

"Well, you have nothing to do with those," said Mr. Wilkins
serenely.

"Oh yes, I have--"

And the confession was precipitated.

It was wonderful how Mellersh took it. One would have imagined
that his sole idea about the nest-egg had always been that it should be
lavished on just this. He did not, as he would have done at home,
cross-examine her; he accepted everything as it came pouring out, about
her fibs and all, and when she had finished and said, "You have every
right to be angry, I think, but I hope you won't be and will forgive me
instead," he merely asked, "W