w afternoon and tell you everything," she said,
and Mrs. Broderick nodded and smiled.

But as they slipped out into the wintry darkness and Olivia took her
husband's arm, she said, with a little laugh,--

"I am so glad I have put on my wedding-dress to-night. I ought to be
smart for such an occasion. This is our first dinner-party since we
have been married."

"Then it won't be our last," returned Marcus, in a tone of conviction.
"I wonder, Livy, whether we shall ever regret those cosy evenings in
the dear little room at No. 1, Galvaston Terrace," but Olivia only
sighed happily. She was too good a wife to regret anything that led to
her husband's advancement. Very likely her cares and responsibilities
would be doubled. She would have less of Marcus's society, and the
world would have claims upon them. The long three years' honeymoon was
over, but, thank God, something else was over too,--the dread of
approaching poverty, the sadness of unproductive labour, of work done
only for love's sake and without grudging.

The following afternoon Mrs. Broderick lay tranquilly in the pleasant
fire-lit twilight, awaiting Olivia's promised visit.

A pine log was spluttering and diffusing tiny coloured sparks. Zoe lay
curled up in a silken ball on the black bearskin rug, and Olivia's
favourite low chair had been wheeled to the foot of the couch, the
tea-things were on the table, and the brass trivet on the fender was
suggestive of hot buttered scones.

"Oh, Aunt Madge, how cosy you look," were Olivia's first words. "May I
take off my hat and jacket? I am going to stay a long time, and Marcus
hopes to come round presently."

"Then we will wait tea for him," returned Aunt Madge, with something
like her old briskness.

"Will you tell Deb not to bring in the kettle and scones until we ring?
Come, this is like old times. It is months since Marcus had tea with
me. Now draw up your chair, Livy, and begin your story, for you are
just bursting with news," and, though Olivia laughed at this, she did
not deny it.

"We had such a lovely time last night," she began. "Greta looked so
pretty in her black evening dress at the top of the table. She wore
the pearl necklace and Olive's diamond cross. She has such a beautiful
white throat the pearls hardly showed against it Mr. Gaythorne came in
to dinner and sat beside her, but he was very tired and left us
directly after, and we all went up to Greta's morning-room and sat
roun