indulgently as the law. As Susy talked, she
warmed to her theme and began to develop its endless possibilities.

"We should really, in a way, help more than we should hamper each
other," she ardently explained. "We both know the ropes so well; what
one of us didn't see the other might--in the way of opportunities, I
mean. And then we should be a novelty as married people. We're both
rather unusually popular--why not be frank!--and it's such a blessing
for dinner-givers to be able to count on a couple of whom neither one is
a blank. Yes, I really believe we should be more than twice the success
we are now; at least," she added with a smile, "if there's that amount
of room for improvement. I don't know how you feel; a man's popularity
is so much less precarious than a girl's--but I know it would furbish me
up tremendously to reappear as a married woman." She glanced away from
him down the long valley at their feet, and added in a lower tone: "And
I should like, just for a little while, to feel I had something in life
of my very own--something that nobody had lent me, like a fancy-dress or
a motor or an opera cloak."

The suggestion, at first, had seemed to Lansing as mad as it was
enchanting: it had thoroughly frightened him. But Susy's arguments were
irrefutable, her ingenuities inexhaustible. Had he ever thought it all
out? She asked. No. Well, she had; and would he kindly not interrupt? In
the first place, there would be all the wedding-presents. Jewels, and a
motor, and a silver dinner service, did she mean? Not a bit of it! She
could see he'd never given the question proper thought. Cheques, my
dear, nothing but cheques--she undertook to manage that on her side: she
really thought she could count on about fifty, and she supposed he could
rake up a few more? Well, all that would simply represent pocket-money!
For they would have plenty of houses to live in: he'd see. People were
always glad to lend their house to a newly-married couple. It was such
fun to pop down and see them: it made one feel romantic and jolly. All
they need do was to accept the houses in turn: go on honey-mooning for
a year! What was he afraid of? Didn't he think they'd be happy enough to
want to keep it up? And why not at least try--get engaged, and then
see what would happen? Even if she was all wrong, and her plan failed,
wouldn't it have been rather nice, just for a month or two, to fancy
they were going to be happy? "I've often fancied it all