had
discreetly launched the instrument and its owner under the stars, and
left the street door standing wide open--a shallow pretence that he
believed Sally already in touch with it.

"They _are_ a funny couple," Rosalind said. "Just fancy! They've known
each other two years, and there they are! But I do like him. It's all
his mother, you know ... what is?... why, goose--of course I mean he
would speak at once if it wasn't for that obese mother of his."

"But she's so fond of Sally." In reply to this his wife kisses his
cheeks, forehead, and chin consecutively, and he says it was right
that time, only the other way round. This refers to a system founded
on the crossing incident at Rheims.

"Of course she is, darling; or pretends she is. But he can neither
divorce his mamma nor ask the kitten to marry her. You see?"

"I see--in fact, I've thought so myself. In confidence, you know.
But is no compromise possible?" Rosalind shakes a slow, regretful,
negative head, and her lips form a silent "No!"

"Not with her. The woman has her own share of selfishness, and her
son's, too. _He_ has none."

"But Sally."

"I see what you mean. Sally goes to the wall one way if she doesn't
the other. So he works out selfish, poor dear fellow! in the end. But,
Gerry darling, let me tell you this: you have no idea how impossible
that young man thinks it that a girl should love _him_. If he thought
it possible the kitten really cared about, or could care about him,
he'd go clean off his head. Indeed, I am right."

"Perhaps you are. There she is."

Sally ran straight upstairs, leaving Ann to close the door. She at
once discharged her mind of its burden, _more suo_.

"Prosy thinks so, too!"

"Thinks what?"

"Thinks they'll go and get married one fine morning, whether or no!"

But she seemed to be the only one much excited about this. Something
was preoccupying the other two minds, and our Sally had not the
remotest notion what.

* * * * *

Nevertheless, it came about that before the next Monday--the day of
Sally's departure with her mother to St. Sennans-on-Sea--that young
person paid a farewell visit to the obese mother of her medical
adviser, and found her knitting.

"That, my dear, is what I am constantly saying to Conrad," was her
reply to a suggestion of Sally's that she wanted change and rest.
"Only this very morning, when he came into my room to see that I had
fresh-made toast--because