d. He doesn't
know me. He'll probably just tell me to go to the devil."

"That wouldn't hurt you," said Mrs. Strickland, smiling.

"What is it exactly you want me to do?"

She did not answer directly.

"I think it's rather an advantage that he doesn't know you.
You see, he never really liked Fred; he thought him a fool; he
didn't understand soldiers. Fred would fly into a passion,
and there'd be a quarrel, and things would be worse instead
of better. If you said you came on my behalf, he couldn't
refuse to listen to you."

"I haven't known you very long," I answered. "I don't see how
anyone can be expected to tackle a case like this unless he
knows all the details. I don't want to pry into what doesn't
concern me. Why don't you go and see him yourself?"

"You forget he isn't alone."

I held my tongue. I saw myself calling on Charles Strickland
and sending in my card; I saw him come into the room,
holding it between finger and thumb:

"To what do I owe this honour?"

"I've come to see you about your wife."

"Really. When you are a little older you will doubtless learn
the advantage of minding your own business. If you will be so
good as to turn your head slightly to the left, you will see
the door. I wish you good-afternoon."

I foresaw that it would be difficult to make my exit with
dignity, and I wished to goodness that I had not returned to
London till Mrs. Strickland had composed her difficulties.
I stole a glance at her. She was immersed in thought.
Presently she looked up at me, sighed deeply, and smiled.

"It was all so unexpected," she said. "We'd been married
seventeen years. I sever dreamed that Charlie was the sort of
man to get infatuated with anyone. We always got on very well
together. Of course, I had a great many interests that he
didn't share."

"Have you found out who" -- I did not quite know how to
express myself -- "who the person, who it is he's gone away
with?"

"No. No one seems to have an idea. It's so strange.
Generally when a man falls in love with someone people see
them about together, lunching or something, and her friends
always come and tell the wife. I had no warning -- nothing.
His letter came like a thunderbolt. I thought he was
perfectly happy."

She began to cry, poor thing, and I felt very sorry for her.
But in a little while she grew calmer.

"It's no good making a fool of myself," she said, drying
her eyes. "The only thing is to decide w