she said.

Jim felt it safest to let this guess stand.

"Of course, if she won't she won't," pursued Mrs. Chancellor
comfortably. "But the best thing you could do would be to bring her on
here!"

Jim shook his head sullenly and set his jaw.

"She won't, eh?" asked the lady, watching him thoughtfully.

"I don't want to do that," Jim persisted stubbornly.

"_You_ don't want to?" She meditated this. "Yet she's young, and
beautiful, and presentable?" she asked, nodding her own head slowly as
he nodded affirmatives. "Yes, of course. Well, it's too bad. One would
have liked to meet her, take her about a bit. And it would help you more
than any one thing, my dear boy. Oh, don't shake your head! Indeed it
would. However, you must be definite, one way or the other. You must
either admit outright that you're divorced, or you must tell an
acceptable story. As it is--one doesn't know what to say--whether she's
impossible in some way--just what the matter is, if you know what I
mean?"

"I see," Jim said heavily.

"Go have a talk with her," commanded Mrs. Chancellor brightly. "Finish
it up, one way or another. You're doing her an injustice, as it is, and
you're not just to yourself. One can't shut a marriage up in a box, you
know, and forget it. There's always leakage somewhere--much better make
a clean breast of the whole thing! You're not the first person who's
made an unfortunate early marriage, you know!"

"I loved my wife," said Jim, in vague, resentful self-defence. "I'm
naturally a domestic man. I loved my little girl--"

"Certainly you did," Mrs. Chancellor interrupted crisply. "And perhaps
she did, too! The details are all the same, you know. Some people make a
success of the thing, some people fail. I've been married. I'm a little
older than you are in years, and ages older in experience--I know all
about it. In every marriage there are the elements of success, and in
every one the makings of a perfectly justifiable divorce. Some women
couldn't live with a saint who was a king and a Rothschild into the
bargain; others marry scamps and are perfectly happy whether they're
being totally ignored or being pulled around by the hair! But if you've
made a failure, admit it. Don't sulk. You'll find that doing something
definite about it is like cleaning the poison out of a wound; you'll
feel better! There, now, you've had your scolding, and you've taken it
very nicely. Ring for some hot water, and we'll talk of something