"I'm all attention, Barry."

"Well, Rose is away for the day, and Mrs. Rose invited a girl-cousin down for the afternoon; and to do honour to her, I imagine, she had provided a sumptuous tea, including shrimps and one of those wobbly white things that you get at lunch."

"I see. Well?"

"Well, we--Mrs. Anstey, Olive and I--chose to pay a call to-day; and when, after a little hesitation, Mrs. Rose asked us to have some tea, we were taken into the dining-room, where these festal delicacies were laid out."

"And then?"

"Well, it would have been all right--Mrs. Anstey is a dear, and Olive of course is a ripper--and we'd have had a very jolly little party, but unfortunately in the middle of it who should arrive but Lady Martin and that terrible daughter of hers."

"Lady Martin of soap fame?"

"The same. Well, you know what an utter sn.o.b the woman is. In two minutes she had Toni--Mrs. Rose--reduced to a jelly--simply by sneering at everything."

"Including the--shrimps?"

"Yes. You know shrimps are--well--a bit _vulgar_, aren't they?"

For a second there was silence. Then Herrick stretched out his hand for his pipe and spoke slowly in the intervals of filling the bowl.

"There was once, if my memory serves me rightly, an Apostle of the name of Peter who chose to consider some of the creatures made by his own Maker in the light of vulgarians; and a sheetful of specimens descended on Peter's head to warn him against the folly of finding any of G.o.d's creations common or unclean. Of course we've no proof that shrimps were included----"

"I say, Jim, don't rag!" Barry threw away his cigarette rather impatiently. "I'm in earnest--oh, I know it sounds beastly sn.o.bbish, but still, shrimps at tea----"

"Are unusual, though really, if you try them, first-rate." Herrick had filled his pipe, and now took up the match-box. "Seriously, Barry, I know what you mean. So long as we have false standards of gentility I suppose the sight of a shrimp in conjunction with the tea-pot will cause us to shrivel up. But I'll guarantee that neither Mrs. Anstey nor Miss Lynn turned a hair at the sight."

"Rather not! They ate them as if they really liked them--and if that wasn't a snub to the awful Martin woman--well, she went, anyway, driven away by our combined vulgarity, I suppose, and we had quite a decent time when she had gone."

"Well? If Lady Martin was driven from the field, and you were left the victors, what's the trouble?"

"The trouble is this. Lady Martin, being a spiteful woman, and knowing perfectly well that Mrs. Anstey meant to teach her a lesson, will lose no opportunity of spreading the story abroad; and in time it is certain to come to Rose's ears."

"Ah!" He spoke thoughtfully. "That is it, is it? And Mr. Rose will--er--resent the tale?"

"You see it's this way." Barry gave way to the impulse to confide in his friend, to whom all his boyish confidences had been given. "Rose is a real good sort, and wouldn't for the world let Toni suspect that he knows he's married beneath him, as the world calls it."

"The world? Ah!" There was a light scorn in the tone.

"Oh, I know--we both know it's all rot, that sort of thing. But still, as the world goes, one has to remember it; and somehow, although Rose is genuinely fond of his wife, I doubt whether his love would stand much--well, ridicule."

"Ah! And I suppose the child did make herself rather ridiculous in her attempts to welcome a cousin to whom she is doubtless attached."

"It isn't only that." Having once begun, Barry unburdened himself still further. "You know, although I admire Mrs. Rose immensely, and she's a ripping kid really, I'm not a bit sure that the marriage will be a success."

"Why not, Barry?"

"Well, they're unsuited to one another in heaps of ways. Toni is, as I say, a dear little girl, but she's only half-educated, and not in the least intellectual. Sharp in her way--the way of a quick-witted woman--shrewd, and no fool. But you know Rose is rather an exceptional fellow."

"So I have always understood."

"He's clever, you know--and deep, too. Not one of those fellows who are always showing off, but really brilliant; and it's rather a dangerous thing for a shallow woman to marry a man of that sort."

"It's often done, Barry," said the other man quietly.

"Oh, I know, but that doesn't make it any safer. Toni is an out-and-out good sort, as straight as a die, and a merry, light-hearted little thing into the bargain; but she's bound to turn out a disappointment to her husband all the same."

"I don't see why," said Herrick after a moment's pause. "Lots of clever men marry feather-headed women and manage to get along all right."

"Yes, but Owen's not that sort. He's a fellow who will want his wife to be a companion, a real comrade, able to go forward side by side with him, understand his aims, sympathize with his ideals and so on; and this girl can't do it."

"But why are you so sure she can't, my boy? Probably she is very different when alone with her husband. All women, as well as men, have two soul-sides, you know--'one to face the world with'--the other----"

"Oh, that's Browning's view, of course, but then he was an idealist!"

Barry spoke rather impatiently. "No, Jim, there's not much hope of that.

I've made a study of the girl--I don't mind telling you I did my best to prevent Rose marrying her--and I'm perfectly certain that as far as anything beyond the merest good-fellowship goes, Rose might just as well have married a Persian kitten."

"Yet she is fond of him--in her way?"

"Very, I should say; but even then there's an element of something which shouldn't exist between husband and wife. There is a sort of quite unconscious patronage on Rose's side which matches a pretty grat.i.tude on hers; and I have a horrible fear that if ever he found her wanting--and showed her so--she would break her heart."

"Oh! Then you don't deny her a heart?"

"Good Lord, no! What I do deny her is--well, I don't quite know. Is it brain, or soul, or what?"

"You take an interest in this girl, Barry. Is it possible you are going to try to supply this deficiency of brain, or soul, or whatever it is?"

Barry laughed rather defiantly.

"Oh, I know you think I'm a fool for my pains! Yes, that's just what I do want to do. I want to wake the girl up, to make her use her intellect, fit herself to be Owen's companion. I hate to think of their marriage turning out a failure--Owen disappointed in her, feeling aggrieved, perhaps, at her inability to go forward with him, while she in her turn feels impatient with him for expecting her to be something she isn't--and that he ought never to have expected her to be!"

"Wait a moment, Barry." Herrick looked at him squarely. "Isn't there something behind all this? Didn't I hear a rumour that some woman had jilted Rose--thrown him over for a richer man, or something of the sort?"

"Well"--Barry bit his lip--"since you know so much--yes."

"And possibly this marriage was in the nature of a reprisal? Intended to show the jilting lady that--to put it plainly--there were still good fish in the sea?"

"Yes--in a way it was."

"Ah! Now I understand. And you, having doubtless been forced into the position of an accessory before the fact, are anxious that as little harm as possible shall be done to either party?"

"Yes--but princ.i.p.ally to the girl."

"Of course, seeing that she was probably unconscious of the reason behind the match. Well, it seems hard that she should have been used as a catspaw, doesn't it?"

"Oh, it wasn't as bad as that. Rose really liked the girl----"

"In spite of her want of--soul?"