'Good G.o.d! why did you do that?'

'Well, I liked him.'

'A dark man?'

'Yes, he was dark.'

'O Maude! Maude! Well, don't stop. What then?'

'Then he kissed me several times.'

'Of course he would, if you kissed him. What else could you expect?

And then?'

'O Frank, I can't.'

'Go on. I am ready for anything!'

'Well, do sit down, and don't run about the room. I am only agitating you.'

'There, I am sitting. You can see that I am not agitated. For Heaven's sake, go on!'

'He asked me if I would sit upon his knee.'

'Yek!'

Maude began to laugh.

'Why, Frank, you are croaking like a frog.'

'I am glad you think it a laughing matter. Go on! Go on! You yielded to his very moderate and natural request. You sat upon his knee.'

'Well, Frank, I did.'

'Good heavens!'

'Don't be so excitable, dear. It was long before I ever saw you.'

'You mean to sit there and tell me in cold blood that you sat upon this ruffian's knee!'

'What else could I do?'

'What could you do? You could have screamed, you could have rung the bell, you could have struck him--you could have risen in the dignity of your insulted womanhood and walked out of the room.'

'It was not so easy for me to walk out of the room.'

'He held you?'

'Yes, he held me.'

'Oh, if I had been there!'

'And there was another reason.'

'What was that?'

'Well, I wasn't very good at walking at that time. You see, I was only three years old.'

Frank sat for a few minutes absorbing it.

'You little wretch!' he said at last.

'Oh you dear old goose! I feel so much better.'

'You horror!'

'I had to get level with you over my forty predecessors. You old Bluebeard! But I did harrow you a little--didn't I?'

'Harrow me! I'm raw all over. It's a nightmare. O Maude, how could you have the heart?'

'Oh, it was lovely--beautiful!'

'It was dreadful.'

'And how jealous you were! Oh, I AM so glad!'

'I don't think,' said Frank, as he put his arms round her, 'that I ever quite realised before--'

And just then Jemima came in with the tray.

CHAPTER XI--CONCERNING MRS. BEETON

Frank Crosse had only been married some months when he first had occasion to suspect that his wife had some secret sorrow. There was a sadness and depression about her at times, for which he was unable to account. One Sat.u.r.day afternoon he happened to come home earlier than he was expected, and entering her bedroom suddenly, he found her seated in the basket-chair in the window, with a large book upon her knees. Her face, as she looked up at him with a mixed expression of joy and of confusion, was stained by recent tears. She put the book hastily down upon the dressing-stand.

'Maude, you've been crying.'

'No, Frank, no!'

'O Maude, you fibber! Remove those tears instantly.' He knelt down beside her and helped. 'Better now?'

'Yes, dearest, I am quite happy.'

'Tears all gone?'

'Quite gone.'