Having once made up her mind that it was right and wise to let Ronnie go, Helen did not falter.  She immediately took control of all necessary arrangements.  Nothing was forgotten.  Ronnie’s outfit was managed with as little trouble to himself as possible.  They dealt together, in a gay morning at the Stores, with all interesting items, but those he called “the dull things” apparently selected themselves.  Anyway, they all appeared in his room, when the time came for packing.

So whole-hearted was his wife’s interest in the undertaking, that Ronnie almost began to look upon it as her plan.

It was she who arranged routes and booked his passages.

When Cook’s cheque had to be written it was a large one.

Helen took out her cheque book.

“No, no, dear,” said Ronnie.  “I must pay it out of my own earnings.  It is a literary speculation.”

Helen hesitated.  She knew Ronnie did not realise how much the new building and necessary repairs on the estate were costing her this year.

“What is your balance at the bank, Ronnie?”

“I haven’t the remotest idea.”

“Darling, why don’t you make a note of your last balance on your counterfoil?  Then at any moment you can add up all subsequent cheques and see at a glance how you stand.”

“Yes, I know, you have explained all that to me before, Helen.  But, you see, most of my counterfoils are blank!  I forget to fill them in.  You can’t write books, and also keep accounts.  If you really think it important, I might give up the former, and turn my whole attention to the latter.”

“Don’t be silly, dear!  You are blessed with a wife who keeps a careful account of every penny of her own.  But I know nothing of your earnings and spendings, excepting when you suddenly remark at breakfast:  ’Hullo!  Here’s a useful little cheque for a thousand’—­in much the same tone of voice as you exclaim the next minute:  ’Hullo!  What excellent hot-buttered toast!’ Ronnie, I wish you would manage to invest rather more.”

“My dear girl, I have invested heaps!  You made me.  But what is the use of saving money when there are only ourselves to consider?  We may as well spend it, and have a good time.  If there were kiddies to leave it to, it would be different.  I had so long of being impecunious, that I particularly enjoy feeling bottomless!  Besides, each year will bring in more.  This African book ought to be worth all the rest put together.”

Helen was silent; but she sighed as she filled in Cook’s cheque and signed it.  Ronald had spoken so lightly of the great disappointment of their married life.  It was always difficult to get Ronnie to take things seriously.  The fact was:  he took himself so seriously, that he was obliged to compensate by taking everything and everybody else rather lightly.  No doubt this arrangement of relative values, made for success.  Ronnie’s success had been very rapid, and very brilliant.  He accepted it with the unconscious modesty of the true artist; his work meaning immeasurably more to him than that which his work brought him, either in praise or pennies.