Mr. Stobell’s face cleared; his mouth relaxed and his dull eyes got almost kindly.  With the idea of calling the attention of Mr. Chalk to the pleasing results of a little firmness he placed his foot upon that gentleman’s toe and bore heavily.

“Best place for you,” he said to Mrs. Chalk.  “There’s no place like home for ladies.  You can have each other to tea every day if you like.  In fact, there’s no reason——­” he paused and looked at his wife, half doubtful that he was conceding too much—­“there’s no reason why you shouldn’t sleep at each other’s sometimes.”

He helped himself to some cake and, rendered polite by good-nature, offered some to Mrs. Chalk.

“Mind, I shall not go unless Mrs. Stobell goes,” said the latter, waving the plate away impatiently; “that I am determined upon.”

Mr. Chalk, feeling that appearances required it, ventured on a mild—­a very mild—­remonstrance.

“And he,” continued Mrs. Chalk, sternly, indicating her husband with a nod, “doesn’t go without me—­not a single step, not an inch of the way.”

Mr. Chalk collapsed and sat staring at her in dismay.  Mr. Stobell, placing both hands on the table, pushed his chair back and eyed her disagreeably.

“It seems to me——­” he began.

“I know,” said Mrs. Chalk, speaking with some rapidity—­“I know just how it seems to you.  But that’s how it is.  If you want my husband to go you have got to have me too, and if you have me you have got to have your wife, and if——­”

“What, is there any more of you coming?” demanded Mr. Stobell, with great bitterness.

Mrs. Chalk ignored the question. “My husband wouldn’t be happy without me,” she said, primly.  “Would you, Thomas?”

“No,” said Mr. Chalk, with a gulp.

“We—­we’re going a long way,” said Mr. Stobell, after a long pause.

“Longer the better,” retorted Mrs. Chalk.

“We’re going among savages,” continued Mr. Stobell, casting about for arguments; “cannibal savages.”

“They won’t eat her,” said Mrs. Chalk, with a passing glance at the scanty proportions of her friend, “not while you’re about.”

“I don’t like to take my wife into danger,” said Mr. Stobell, with surly bashfulness; “I’m—­I’m too fond of her for that.  And she don’t want to come.  Do you, Alice?”

“No,” said Mrs. Stobell, dutifully, “but I want to share your dangers, Robert.”

“Say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ without any trimmings,” commanded her husband, as he intercepted a look passing between her and Mrs. Chalk.  “Do-you-want-to-come?”

Mrs. Stobell trembled.  “I don’t want to prevent Mr. Chalk from going,” she murmured.

“Never mind about him,” said Mr. Stobell.

“Do—­you—­want—­to—­come.

“Yes,” said Mrs. Stobell.

Her husband, hardly able to believe his ears, gazed at her in bewilderment.  “Very well, then,” he said, in a voice that made the tea-cups rattle.  “COME!”