tempered. Of course you're
neither. What you think is self-control is merely sulkiness."

His eyes flashed.

"What do you want?" he said, in an undertone.

"Why, I want you to be sensible and jolly; like you were that day at
Richmond."

"How can I be like I was that day at Richmond? It was a lovely day; we
were in the country; it was our escapade. It was an exceptional case."

"Oh dear! Then will you only be _like that_ as an exceptional case?"

"My dear child, you don't understand. When a man has--has work to do,"
he said rather hesitatingly.

She laughed again.

"Work! It must be frightfully important work if you throw it on the
floor from temper."

He bore this well, and answered, picking up the papers, "Important or
not, it's what I'm here for--it's what your father pays me for. How on
earth he can think I'm the slightest use to him I can't imagine."

"Oh, he knows you're not, really, dear," said Sylvia soothingly. "But
he's grown used to you, and to have a secretary makes him feel he's a
sort of important public man. Don't you see?"

"What! I'm _not_ useful to him?" Woodville asked angrily. "I should like
to know----" Here he stopped.

"I suppose you think he won't know what to do without you when we're
married," said Sylvia.

"Oh, I do wish you'd leave off saying that, Sylvia."

"Saying what?"

"When we're married. You have no idea how irritating you are, darling."

"Irritating? Oh dear, Frank, I'm so sorry. Do forgive me. Perhaps it is
rather bad taste, but I say it to cheer you up, to remind you you have
something to look forward to. Do you see?"

She looked at him sweetly, but he would not meet her eyes.

"Perhaps you're _not_ looking forward to it?" she said in a piqued
voice.

"Sylvia, would you mind going away?"

"Oh, all right. Very well. I won't disturb you any more. It's very sweet
and conscientious of you to bother about the papers. I'll go. Shan't you
want me always with you when we're married?"

"Never!" he answered. "At least, not if I have any other occupation."

Her eyes brightened.

"Oh! then it isn't that I worry you, but I sort of distract your
attention. Is that it?"

He made no answer.

"I'm afraid," said Sylvia sadly, "that we shall quarrel dreadfully."

"Quarrel? Rot!" said Woodville. "We shall _never_ quarrel. You'll do
exactly what I tell you--and I shall devote myself to doing everything
for your good."

"If I thought you meant anything as dull as that I