“My dear Will—­my true husband—­I’m so glad to think it’s ended as we wished.”

Her joy in his joy was beautiful to see.  Though her pretty eyes were flooded by sudden tears, her whole face was shining with happiness; and she pressed both her hands against him, and raised her lips to his lips with the rapid movements of a child that craves a caress from its loved and venerated guardian.

“There,” he said, after a long hug.  “Now use your hanky, and let’s be jolly—­and begin to enjoy ourselves.  You and I are going to have the best treat this evening that London can provide.  But I think that, now you’ve come, I’ll do my duty first, and then throw myself into the pleasure without alloy.  What’s his address?”

“Whose address?”

“Mr. Barradine’s.”

“How do you mean?  His address here, in London?”

Yes.”

“Number 181, Grosvenor Place.”

“Ah, I thought it was the Place—­and yet I couldn’t feel sure it wasn’t the Square.  Now you shall tie my tie for me.”

And, getting out a new collar, he told her that he would go to thank Mr. Barradine there and then.  He would be less than no time fulfilling this act of necessary politeness, and while he was away she was to see the people of the house and get a proper married couple’s bedroom in lieu of this bachelor’s crib.  Mavis, however, thought that Dale was mistaken in supposing the ceremonious call necessary or even advisable, and she gently tried to dissuade him from carrying out his purpose.  She considered that a carefully written letter would be a better method of communication to employ in thanking their grand ally.  But Dale was obstinate.  He said that in this one matter he knew best.  It was between him and Mr. Barradine now—­a case of man to man.

“He’ll look for it, Mav, and would take a very poor opinion of me if I hadn’t the manhood to go straight and frank, and say ‘I thank you.’  Trust your old William for once more, Mav;” and he laughed merrily.  “I tell you what I felt I wanted to do at the G.P.O. was a leaf out of the Roman history—­that is, to kneel down to him and say, ’Put your hand on William Dale’s head, sir, for sign and token, and take his service from this day forward as your bondsman and your slave.’  But I shan’t say that;” and again he laughed.  “I shall simply say, ’Mr. Barradine, sir, I thank you for what you’ve done for me and for the kind and open way you done it.’  So much he will expect, and the rest he will understand.”

He was equally determined to despatch a telegram giving the good news to Mrs. Petherick at North Ride Cottage, and he became almost huffy when Mavis again suggested that a letter would meet the case.

“I don’t understand you, Mav.  You seem now as if you were for belittling everything.  I’m not going to spare sixpence to keep your aunt on tenterhooks for course of post.”

Mr. Barradine’s town mansion stood in a commanding corner position, with its front door in the side street; and from the glimpse that Dale obtained of its hall, its staircase, and its vast depth, he judged that it was quite worthy of the owner of that noble countryseat, the Abbey House.