you about my aunt taking her to see some friends
of hers at Norwood? No? Well, Sheila had got out of the house somehow
(I suppose their talking did not interest her), and when they went in
search of her they found her in the cemetery crying like a child."

"What about?"

"Why," said Lavender with a smile, "merely because so many people had
died. She had never seen anything like that before: you know the small
church-yards up in Lewis, with their inscriptions in Norwegian and
Danish and German. I suppose the first sight of all the white stones
at Norwood was too much for her."

"Well, I don't see much of a joke in that," said Ingram.

"Who said there was any joke in it?" cried Lavender impatiently.
"I never knew such a cantankerous fellow as you are. You are always
fancying I am finding fault with Sheila; and I never do anything of
the kind. She is a very good girl indeed. I have every reason to be
satisfied with the way our marriage has turned out."

"_Has she_?"

The words were not important, but there was something in the tone in
which they were spoken that suddenly checked Frank Lavender's careless
flow of speech. He looked at Ingram for a moment with some surprise,
and then he said, "What do you mean?"

"Well, I will tell you what I mean," said Ingram slowly. "It is an
awkward thing for a man to interfere between husband and wife, I
am aware--he gets something else than thanks for his pains
ordinarily--but sometimes it has to be done, thanks or kicks. Now,
you know, Lavender, I had a good deal to do with helping forward
your marriage in the North; and I don't remind you of that to claim
anything in the way of consideration, but to explain why I think I am
called on to speak to you now."

Lavender was at once a little frightened and a little irritated. He
half guessed what might be coming from the slow and precise manner
in which Ingram talked. That form of speech had vexed him many a time
before, for he would rather have had any amount of wild contention
and bandying about of reproaches than the calm, unimpassioned and
sententious setting forth of his shortcomings to which this sallow
little man was perhaps too much addicted.

"I suppose Sheila has been complaining to you, then?" said Lavender
hotly.

"You may suppose what absurdities you like," said Ingram quietly; "but
it would be a good deal better if you would listen to me patiently,
and deal in a common-sense fashion with what I have got to say. I