tor.

"No, no, thank you. Mrs. Kellynch, may I really ask you a great, _great_
favour?"

"Please do."

"May I consult you? I'm _so_ miserable--I'm wretched. Nigel has gone
away and left me!"

"Gone away."

"Yes."

"But he'll come back? Surely, he means to come back?"

"I _hope_ so. But he never left me before. Never since we have been
married! And I am miserable. What shall I do--what can I do to make him
fond of me?"

This pathetic question brought tears to Bertha's eyes. She was truly
sorry for the poor little creature.

"Is he angry with you then?"

"He's not exactly angry, now. He has been very kind. He has behaved
beautifully. But he said he must go away for a time, and when he came
back he would not refer to--to the subject of our quarrel again."

"Well, that's all right then. There is no cause for being unhappy. It's
nothing his going away for a week or two."

"He says six weeks. Six long, dreadful weeks!"

"Even _six_ weeks--it's nothing. After, you'll both be much happier, I'm
sure," said Bertha consolingly. "Sometimes there is a sort of strain and
a change is needed. It will be all right."

"But, Mrs. Kellynch, you don't know--you don't understand. I have always
been so terribly, madly jealous. I have worried him into it. You see--I
can't help it, I love him so much! I do love him. You can't imagine what
it is!"

"Indeed I can!" cried Bertha. "I care _quite_ as much for Percy. You
can't think how much."

"Really and truly? But that's so different, because _he_ cares quite as
much for you."

"Indeed, I hope so," said Bertha seriously.

"Yes. But Nigel doesn't--he's kind, but I don't think he cares much
about me. What shall I do?"

Bertha paused, deeply sorry. Then she said:

"Nonsense! Of course he does, but you--if you'll excuse my saying
so--you seem to worry him, to bother him with imaginary grievances, with
unjust suspicious. What man will bear that?"

"Then will you tell me what to do?" she asked, like a child.

"First, don't beg him to come back. Write kindly, unselfishly,
cheerfully."

"Cheerfully! Oh, I can't."

"Yes; you must if you want it to be all right. What man wants to be
deluged with tears and complaints? Dear Mrs. Hillier, I'm speaking as a
genuine friend. I'm speaking frankly. I'm advising you as I would my own
sister. Write to him cheerily, and take an interest in his doings, but
not _too_ great. Show less curiosity. Above all, no jealousy, no
suspicions. It