quaintance with English literature.

'Did you ever read any of Ouida's novels?'

'No, I never did.'

'I advise you to before you think of taking your wife over there. She
writes a great deal about those parts. People get mixed up so, it
seems. You couldn't live by yourself. You have to eat at public tables,
and you'd have all sorts of people trying to make acquaintance with
Mrs. Widdowson. They're a queer lot, I believe.'

He abandoned the thought, at once and utterly. When Monica learnt
this--he gave only vague and unsatisfactory reasons--she fell back into
her despondent mood. For a whole day she scarcely uttered a word.

On the next day, in the dreary afternoon, they were surprised by a call
from Mrs. Luke. The widow--less than ever a widow in externals--came in
with a burst of exuberant spirits, and began to scold the moping couple
like an affectionate parent.

'When are you silly young people coming to an end of your honeymoon? Do
you sit here day after day and call each other pretty names? Really
it's very charming in its way. I never knew such an obstinate
case.--Monica, my black-eyed beauty, change your frock, and come with
me to look up the Hodgson Bulls. They're quite too awful; I can't face
them alone; but I'm bound to keep in with them. Be off, and let me
pitch into your young man for daring to refuse my dinner. Don't you
know, sir, that my invitations are like those of Royalty--polite
commands?'

Widdowson kept silence, waiting to see what his wife would do. He could
not with decency object to her accompanying Mrs. Luke, yet hated the
thought of such a step. A grim smile on his face, he sat stiffly,
staring at the wall. To his inexpressible delight, Monica, after a
short hesitation, excused herself; she was not well; she did not feel
able--

'Oh!' laughed the visitor. 'I see, I see! Do just as you like, of
course. But if Edmund has any _nous_'--this phrase she had learnt from
a young gentleman, late of Oxford, now of Tattersall's and
elsewhere--'he won't let you sit here in the dumps. You _are_ in the
dumps, I can see.'

The vivacious lady did not stay long. When she had rustled forth again
to her carriage, Widdowson broke into a paean of amorous gratitude.
What could he do to show how he appreciated Monica's self-denial on his
behalf? For a day or two he was absent rather mysteriously, and in the
meantime made up his mind, after consultation with Newdick, to take his
wife for a holiday in Guern