truth, that Goldthorpe didn't believe a word of it.

It was unfortunate, too, for Bruce, that he felt it incumbent on him to
keep it from Vincy; and not to speak of the affair at all was a real
sacrifice on Vincy's part, also. For they would both have enjoyed
discussing it, while Goldthorpe, the only human being in whom Bruce
ever really confided, was not only bored but incredulous. He considered
Bruce not only tedious to the verge of imbecility, but unreliable
beyond the pardonable point of inaccuracy. In fact, Bruce was his ideal
of the most wearisome of liars and the most untruthful of bores; and
here was poor Vincy dying to hear all about his old friend, Mavis (he
never knew even whether she had mentioned his name), ready to revel,
with his peculiar humour, in every detail of the strange romance,
particularly to enjoy her sudden desertion of Bruce for an unmarried
commercial traveller who had fallen in love with her on board.--And
yet, it had to be withheld! Bruce felt it would be disloyal, and he had
the decency to be ashamed to speak of his escapade to an intimate
friend of his wife.

* * * * *

Bruce complained very much of the dullness of the early autumn in
London without Aylmer. This sudden mania for long journeys on Aylmer's
part was a most annoying hobby. He would never get such a pleasant
friend as Aylmer again. Aylmer was his hero.

'Why do you think he's gone away?' he rather irritatingly persisted.

'I haven't the slightest idea.'

'Do you know, Edith, it has sometimes occurred to me that if--that,
well--well, you know what I mean--if things had turned out differently,
and you had done as I asked you--'

'Well?'

'Why, I have a sort of idea,' he looked away, 'that Aylmer might--well,
might have proposed to you!'

'Oh! _What_ an extraordinary idea!'

'But he never did show any sign whatever, I suppose of--well,
of--being more interested in you than he ought to have been?'

'Good heavens, no!'

'Oh, of course, I know that--you're not his style. You liked him very
much, didn't you, Edith?...'

'I like him very much now.'

'However, I doubt if you ever quite appreciated him. He's so full of
ability; such an intellectual chap! Aylmer is more a man's man. _I_
miss him, of course. He was a very great friend of mine. And he didn't
ever at all, in the least--seem to--'

'Seem to what?'

'It would have been a very unfair advantage to take of my absence if he
ha