They sat silent for a little.

“Happy?” asked Jimmy in a whisper.

Christine nodded.

“Quite—­quite happy,” she told him.

Presently: 

“Jimmy, you won’t—­you won’t be horrid to—­to Mr. Kettering, will you? 
He was kind to me—­he was very kind to me when—­when I was so unhappy.”

“Were you very unhappy, my sweet?”

“Dreadfully.”

“I’m sorry, darling—­so sorry.  I can’t tell you.”

Christine kissed him.

“You won’t ever be unkind again, Jimmy?”

“Never—­never!  Do you believe me?”

She looked into his eyes.

“Yes.”

“And you do love me?”

Christine made a little grimace.

“I’m tired of answering that question.”

“I shall never be tired of asking it,” he said.  “And about Kettering?  We shan’t ever need to see him again, shall we?  So there’ll be no chance for me to tell him that I should like to punch his beastly head.”

Christine laughed happily, then she grew serious all at once.

“Jimmy, do you know that I somehow think he will marry Gladys——­”

“What!” said Jimmy in amazement.

She nodded seriously.

“I believe Gladys likes him.  I don’t know, but I do believe she does.  And she’d make him a splendid wife.”

Jimmy screwed up his nose.

“Don’t let’s talk about her,” he said.  “I’d much rather talk about my own wife——­”

Christine flushed.

“Do you think I shall make a—­nice wife, Jimmy?” she asked in a whisper.

Jimmy caught her to his heart.

“Do I?  Darling—­I can’t—­somehow I can’t answer that question.  I’m not half good enough for you.  I don’t deserve that you——­” he began brokenly.

She laid her hand on his lips.

“You’re not to say rude things about my husband,” she told him with pretended severity.

He kissed the hand that covered his mouth.

“And so when the Great Horatio comes——­” said Christine.  Jimmy gave a stifled exclamation; he dragged his watch from his pocket.

“By Jove!” he said.

“What’s the matter?” she asked anxiously.

He explained: 

“I had a wire from the old chap.  We were to meet him at Waterloo this evening at eight-thirty; it’s nearly eight now.”

Christine climbed down from his knee with a sudden show of dignity.

“We must go at once—­of course we must.”  She came back for a moment to his arms.  “Oh, Jimmy, aren’t you glad that we’re really—­really all right, that we haven’t got to pretend now the Great Horatio is home?”

“I can never tell you how glad,” said Jimmy humbly.

They kissed, and Christine danced over to the looking-glass to put her hat straight.

Jimmy watched her with adoring eyes.  Suddenly: 

“I shall tell him that we can’t stay after to-night,” he said decidedly.  “I shall tell him that he can’t possibly expect it.”