various games were played, in
the midst of which Jack's whistle sounded from without, and his wife and
sons rushed to meet him. They looked a typical family group as they re-
entered the room, Edith happily hanging on to his arm, the boys prancing
round his feet, and the onlooker felt a little pang of loneliness at the
sight.

John Martin was a tall, well-made man, with a clean-shaven face and
deep-set grey eyes. He was pale and lined, and a nervous twitching of
the eyelids testified to the strain through which he had passed, but it
was a strong face and a pleasant face, and, when he looked at his wife,
a face of indescribable tenderness. At the moment he was smiling, for
it was always a pleasure to see his pretty sister-in-law, and to-night
Edith's anxious looks had departed, and she skipped by his side as eager
and excited as the boys themselves.

"Dad, dad, has there been any more 'splosions?"

"Hasn't there been no fearful doings on in the world, daddy?"

"Jack! Jack! I've got a new tonic. It has done me such a lot of
good!"

Jack turned from one to the other.

"No, boys, no,--no more accidents to-day! What is it, darling? You
look radiant. What is the joke?"

"Look out of the window for a minute! Margot, you talk to him, and
don't let him look round."

Edith pinned on the new hat before the mirror, carefully adjusting the
angles, and pulling out her cloudy hair to fill in the necessary spaces.
Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkled; it was no longer the worn
white wife, but a pretty, coquettish girl, who danced up to Jack's side
with saucy, uplifted head.

"There! What do you think of that?"

The answer of the glowing eyes was more eloquent than words. Jack
whistled softly beneath his breath, walking slowly round and round to
take in the whole effect.

"I say, that _is_ fetching! That's something like a hat you wore the
summer we were engaged. You don't look a day older. Where did you run
that to earth, darling?"

"Can't you see Bond Street in every curve? I should have thought it was
self-evident. Margot said I was shabby, and that a new hat would do me
good, so we went out and bought it. Do you think I am extravagant?
It's better to spend on this than on medicine, and three guineas isn't
expensive for real lace, is it?"

She peered in her husband's face with simulated anxiety, but his smile
breathed pleasure unqualified.

"I'm delighted that you have bought something at l