ng my life in
my hands in trying to see a little of Germany, and I'm afraid now that
Mrs. March has her mind too firmly fixed on Berlin to let me think of
going to Schevleningen till we've been there."

"It's too bad!" said Mrs. March, with real regret. "I wish we were
going." But she had not the least notion of gratifying her wish; and
they were all silent till Kenby broke out:

"Look here! You know how I feel about Mrs Adding! I've been pretty frank
with Mr. March myself, and I've had my suspicions that she's been frank
with you, Mrs. March. There isn't any doubt about my wanting to marry
her, and up to this time there hasn't been any doubt about her not
wanting to marry me. But it isn't a question of her or of me, now. It's
a question of Rose. I love the boy," and Kenby's voice shook, and he
faltered a moment. "Pshaw! You understand."

"Indeed I do, Mr. Kenby," said Mrs. March. "I perfectly understand you."

"Well, I don't think Mrs. Adding is fit to make the journey with
him alone, or to place herself in the best way after she gets to
Schevleningen. She's been badly shaken up; she broke down before
the doctor; she said she didn't know what to do; I suppose she's
frightened--"

Kenby stopped again, and March asked, "When is she going?"

"To-morrow," said Kenby, and he added, "And now the question is, why
shouldn't I go with her?"

Mrs. March gave a little start, and looked at her husband, but he
said nothing, and Kenby seemed not to have supposed that he would say
anything.

"I know it would be very American, and all that, but I happen to be an
American, and it wouldn't be out of character for me. I suppose," he
appealed to Mrs. March, "that it's something I might offer to do if it
were from New York to Florida--and I happened to be going there? And I
did happen to be going to Holland."

"Why, of course, Mr. Kenby," she responded, with such solemnity that
March gave way in an outrageous laugh.

Kenby laughed, and Mrs. March laughed too, but with an inner note of
protest.

"Well," Kenby continued, still addressing her, "what I want you to do is
to stand by me when I propose it."

Mrs. March gathered strength to say, "No, Mr. Kenby, it's your own
affair, and you must take the responsibility."

"Do you disapprove?"

"It isn't the same as it would be at home. You see that yourself."

"Well," said Kenby, rising, "I have to arrange about their getting away
to-morrow. It won't be easy in this hurly-burly