g the best I could for you," he said, staring hard at the
ingrate. "I was trying to make Venia see what a careful husband you
would make. Miss Sippet herself is most particular about such things--
and Venia seemed to think something of it, because she asked me whether
you used a warming-pan."

[Illustration: "She asked me whether you used a warming-pan."]

Mr. Blundell got up from his chair and, without going through the
formality of bidding his host good-by, quitted the room and closed the
door violently behind him. He was red with rage, and he brooded darkly
as he made his way home on the folly of carrying on the traditions of a
devoted mother without thinking for himself.

For the next two or three days, to Venia's secret concern, he failed to
put in an appearance at the farm--a fact which made flirtation with the
sergeant a somewhat uninteresting business. Her sole recompense was the
dismay of her father, and for his benefit she dwelt upon the advantages
of the Army in a manner that would have made the fortune of a recruiting-
sergeant.

"She's just crazy after the soldiers," he said to Mr. Blundell, whom he
was trying to spur on to a desperate effort. "I've been watching her
close, and I can see what it is now; she's romantic. You're too slow and
ordinary for her. She wants somebody more dazzling. She told Daly only
yesterday afternoon that she loved heroes. Told it to him to his face.
I sat there and heard her. It's a pity you ain't a hero, John."

"Yes," said Mr. Blundell; "then, if I was, I expect she'd like something
else."

The other shook his head. "If you could only do something daring," he
murmured; "half-kill some-body, or save somebody's life, and let her see
you do it. Couldn't you dive off the quay and save some-body's life from
drowning?"

"Yes, I could," said Blundell, "if somebody would only tumble in."

"You might pretend that you thought you saw somebody drowning," suggested
Mr. Turnbull.

"And be laughed at," said Mr. Blundell, who knew his Venia by heart.

"You always seem to be able to think of objections," complained Mr.
Turnbull; "I've noticed that in you before."

"I'd go in fast enough if there was anybody there," said Blundell. "I'm
not much of a swimmer, but--"

"All the better," interrupted the other; "that would make it all the more
daring."

"And I don't much care if I'm drowned," pursued the younger man,
gloomily.

Mr. Turnbull thrust his hands in his poc