'James,' she whispered, from the post of vantage her head occupied upon his shoulder, 'when you come home the whole world seems somehow different.'

Her tongue betrayed her. Her speech was hardly that of an educated woman, and yet her voice was such a sweet one, and her manner so naturally refined, that one could not doubt that it needed but little to make her command over the King's English greater than it was.

'Seems different, doesn't it? Now that's strange. Do you think, having come, if I stayed it would keep on seeming different?'

'O James, if you would stay--a week.'

One could not but perceive that her sentence had changed between its beginning and its end. He chose to construe the alteration in a fashion of his own.

'A week! You don't think it would keep on seeming different if I stayed longer than that?'

'If you--if you'd only try.'

Her voice dropped; as if alarmed at her own daring. This was one of those foolish women who are fearful of saying anything which may be contrary to the wishes of the man they love.

'I'm going to try; if try's the word which adequately expresses the situation. I'm going to stay more than a week. I'm going to stay for ever.'

She looked up at him with an expression of singular amazement.

'James, do you mean--that you've come--to stay with us--for good?'

'That's it; for good. I like your word better than mine. Then we'll see how long the world will keep on seeming different.'

'It will keep on seeming different for ever. Stay with us always?

James, you--you don't know what that means.'

Back went her head upon his shoulder, and she was still. He put up his hand to stroke her hair.

'It's in this way. After prolonged and arduous toil----'

He cleared his throat; as if the words stuck a little. She mistook the cause of his hesitation.

'I'm sure you've worked too much.'

'I have worked hard--at times.' There was a grimness in his tone which it is to be hoped she did not detect. 'As a result of my--labours, I have ama.s.sed a small fortune which will relieve me, in the future, from the necessity of making more money, and will enable me to devote the whole of my attention to the claims of my wife and family.'

'Do you mean that you are rich?'

'Rich is a relative term, I hope that I have enough to provide us all with bread and cheese for the remainder of our days.'

'Without working any more?'

'Without working any more.'

'James, shan't we be happy?'

I think we shall. It's about my idea of happiness to have you always close at hand.'

'James!'

'My idea is to leave this part of the world behind us; and--what do you say to a little travel?'

'Travel? I've always wanted to travel,--and with you! But it costs so much.'

'I'll see that it doesn't cost more than I can afford, Then, when we've had enough of travelling, we'll decide which of the places we have seen we like best, and there we'll take up our abode.'

'James, how good G.o.d is to us!'

Mr. Merrett said nothing, His lips were wrinkled by a peculiar smile, which it was perhaps as well for her peace of mind that she did not see; and he smoothed the lady's lovely hair.

While the silence still remained unbroken the door opened--manners in Little Olive Street are primitive--and Mr. Augustus FitzHoward stood looking in.

CHAPTER x.x.xII

THE LAST JOURNEY TO TWICKENHAM HOUSE

The scene which met his eyes appeared to fill Mr. FitzHoward with an access of amazement to which it was altogether beyond his power to give adequate expression. Mr. Merrett, on the other hand, greeted him with a smile of the heartiest kind.

'What you, Fitz! How goes it, my old pal?'

The fashion of the greeting seemed to render Mr. FitzHoward's amazement greater. On a sudden words came tumbling from his lips.

'So you have come home. Well, I'm a Dutchman if this doesn't beat anything!'

'Who says you're a Dutchman? You give me his name and address and I'll pay him a call. Yes, Fitz, I have come home; and I hope you're as glad to see me as I am to see you.'

'You weren't glad to see me a little while ago.'

'I should have been if I'd had the luck. But we don't always have the luck. I hope, old man, that my presence hasn't caused you any inconvenience?'

Mr. FitzHoward had his hands in his trousers' pockets; his agitation was such that it caused him to agitate those garments in a way which was peculiar.

'I don't know what kind of a fool you take me for. I know I'm a bit of one, but I'm not the altogether you seem to think.'

'What's the matter with you, Fitz? Perhaps it's because I haven't seen you for so long, but your manner appears to me to be a trifle odd.'

'I suppose you're not the Marquis of Twickenham now?'

'Not who? I say, have you--been beginning early?'

'I suppose you never were the Marquis of Twickenham? I suppose I'm not to believe the evidence of my senses? Oh, dear no! If you tell me that you're Jones to-day, and Brown to-morrow, and Robinson the day after, and G.o.d knows who next week, I'm never to cast doubt upon your word by suggesting that I ever knew you as anybody else. Is that the kind of man you think I ought to be? Because, if so, although you mayn't like it, I can only tell you that I'm not. I always have said that you were the marvel of the age, but I'm only just beginning to realise what a marvel you really are.'

'Mary, what does the fellow mean?'

She said something which was audible to him alone, When she had finished, Mr. Merrett, lifting the children from off his knees, rose to his feet.