“Yes, I mean it! But take me quickly before I change my mind! I can sleep at Wyncham, and here I lie awake all night, and my head aches. Take me home and I will try to be a better wife! Oh, Dicky, have I been tiresome and exacting? I did not mean to be! Why do you let me?” She came quickly round the table and knelt at his side, giving no heed to the crumpling of her billowing silks. “I have been a wicked, selfish woman!” she said vehemently. “But indeed I will be better. You must not let me be bad⁠—you must not, I tell you!”

He flung his arm about her plump shoulders and drew her tightly to him.

“When I get you home at Wyncham, I promise you I will finely hector you, sweetheart,” he said, laughing to conceal his deeper feelings. “I shall make you into a capital housewife!”