ing evenings which
can happen sometimes. They were all three in the minute kitchen
together, Desmond taking off his coat and rolling up his sleeves to
cook, and excellently he cooked, too. Julia tied an apron around him,
and Marie twisted up a cook's cap from grease-proof paper, and they
laughed like people who have discovered the finest jokes in the world.
There was no care; there was no worry; no time-table. No Jove-like
husband, no fretting, asking wife, no shades of grocers and butchers
had a place there. It was a great evening. No one was married.
Everyone was young. Oh! it was jolly! jolly! jolly! All one wished--if
one stopped to wish at all--was that it might never end.

But the end was at 9.30, punctual to the stroke of Marie's conscience.
At No. 30 Welham Mansions, Hampstead, were three little sleepers who
depended upon her for all they needed in the world, and over them
watched a tired old grannie who would fain go home to bed. Marie left
the others suddenly, in case the strength of her resolution should
fail her, crying, as she ran out:

"Now don't stop me! I'm going to put on my hat--and GO!"

Julia got up to follow her quickly, but quick as she was, Desmond was
quicker. He had his back against the closed door, facing her, and he
said:

"Julia! we'll stop ragging. We're alone for just two minutes. Let me
ask you--"

"No!" she exclaimed rebelliously.

"Yes, I will! You couldn't get the door open if you tried. Julia, ever
since I saw you I believe I've wanted you, and every time I've tried
to tell you you've checked me or driven me off somehow. Yet won't you
think--"

"I don't want to."

"If you'd marry me--"

"You know you don't believe in marriage any more than I do."

"Not for any fools. But we're different. Besides, you've altered me;
converted me. You can do absolutely what you like with me. I'm yours.
Let's--let's get married to-morrow and set an example to 'em all of
what married people should be."

"Are you mad?"

"Yes, about you," Rokeby replied. He had lost his naive and lacklustre
bearing, his eyes were alight and quick, and his fire warmed her as
she stood before him, mutinous yet afraid.

"I shall never marry," she said defiantly.

"You will, sooner or later," said Rokeby, "and you will marry me. I'll
never leave you till you've done it, and then--then I'll never leave
you, either, Julia." He advanced upon her, a sudden whirlwind, before
whom she cringed back with a helpless s