And then she had told him how they had weighed the coal.

'Yes, I remember now,' he said. 'It is a great nuisance, isn't it? I
hate to throw away money like that.'

'Well, what do you think? Suppose we bought a really good range with
aunt's money? It would save us a lot, and I expect the things would
taste much nicer.'

Darnell passed the marmalade, and confessed that the idea was brilliant.

'It's much better than mine, Mary,' he said quite frankly. 'I am so glad
you thought of it. But we must talk it over; it doesn't do to buy in a
hurry. There are so many makes.'

Each had seen ranges which looked miraculous inventions; he in the
neighbourhood of the City; she in Oxford Street and Regent Street, on
visits to the dentist. They discussed the matter at tea, and afterwards
they discussed it walking round and round the garden, in the sweet cool
of the evening.

'They say the "Newcastle" will burn anything, coke even,' said Mary.

'But the "Glow" got the gold medal at the Paris Exhibition,' said
Edward.

'But what about the "Eutopia" Kitchener? Have you seen it at work in
Oxford Street?' said Mary. 'They say their plan of ventilating the oven
is quite unique.'

'I was in Fleet Street the other day,' answered Edward, 'and I was
looking at the "Bliss" Patent Stoves. They burn less fuel than any in
the market--so the makers declare.'

He put his arm gently round her waist. She did not repel him; she
whispered quite softly--

'I think Mrs. Parker is at her window,' and he drew his arm back slowly.

'But we will talk it over,' he said. 'There is no hurry. I might call at
some of the places near the City, and you might do the same thing in
Oxford Street and Regent Street and Piccadilly, and we could compare
notes.'

Mary was quite pleased with her husband's good temper. It was so nice of
him not to find fault with her plan; 'He's so good to me,' she thought,
and that was what she often said to her brother, who did not care much
for Darnell. They sat down on the seat under the mulberry, close
together, and she let Darnell take her hand, and as she felt his shy,
hesitating fingers touch her in the shadow, she pressed them ever so
softly, and as he fondled her hand, his breath was on her neck, and she
heard his passionate, hesitating voice whisper, 'My dear, my dear,' as
his lips touched her cheek. She trembled a little, and waited. Darnell
kissed her gently on the cheek and drew away his hand, and when he spoke
he