asking his consent has its funny side. _He'll_
be on our side anyway, Lucy."

"I'm afraid nobody will think it's as nice as we do."

"Well, of course, it isn't as nice for anybody as it is for us."

"Will you tell him right away?"

"Couldn't I wait a few days? Somehow I like to bask in the sunshine of
just _you_ knowing and just _me_ knowing. What do _you_ think?"

She gave me a wonderful look. "I'm not here to think--I'm here to take
orders from my dear."

I let five days go before I told Schuyler. They were five wonderful
days, during which we borrowed no trouble from the past or the future;
five days during which we agreed to cross our bridges only when we came
to them. On that fifth day I received a long letter from Harry
Colemain dated Palm Beach.

MY DEAR FELLOW [he wrote]: At the risk of losing you I think that I
must tell you something of the experiences that I have been having with
John Fulton. To begin with he told me about his wife's failure of
affection and their domestic smash-up. He told me going down in the
train. We shared the drawing-room. Every time I was jolted into
wakefulness, I found him wide awake. For five days I don't think he
has slept a wink. He looks parched and dry like a mummy. He has tried
very hard to be a cheerful companion, and we have fished and swum and
gone through the motions of all the Palm Beach recreations. But his
mind is never for one single instant clear of his troubles. We have
become very intimate. I think he had to talk or die. He apologizes
very often for having talked and continuing to do so, but throws
himself upon what he calls my mercifulness. He talks in a circle,
always coming back to the questions _why_ and _what_. _Why_ has it
happened? _What_ has he done to deserve it? He searches his memory
for reasons as you look for bits of gold in a handful of sand. Yes, he
was very cross once about some money, but that was years before she
stopped loving him. It couldn't be _that_, etc., etc.

Our rooms are separated by a little parlor. I'm a sound sleeper, and
hate being disturbed, but I have given him positive orders to wake me
if he gets lonely and wants to talk. He's only obeyed these orders
once. And then he didn't exactly obey them, he waked me because he
couldn't control his nerves. He couldn't sleep, as usual, so he
started to get up, and just when he got his legs over the side of the
bed he began to laugh. It was his laughter th