"I was, but I lost her."
I pressed his hand sympathetically.
"You can come along with us, then," said my good wife; "it will be better than passing the evening with yourself for company; and I am burning to hear what you have to tell us about the house in Lamb's Terrace. I am fairly enchanted with it, even before I see it. There is our 'bus; I hope there is room for us."
There was room, and we got in, and alighted within thirty yards of our house--our dear old house, which my wife was bent upon giving up.
I took Bob to my dressing room, and we had a wash and a brush up.
"Any children?" he asked.
"No," I replied; "it caused us sorrow at first, but we get resigned to things."
"Yes, indeed."
Downstairs my wife was waiting for us, and there was our tea-dinner already prepared, with one or two additional small luxuries in honor of our visitor.
"Sit down, Bob," I said, "and make yourself at home. To you this is Liberty Hall; we haven't a bit of pride in us, although my dear wife here has an ambition for a larger house; that is why we are going to move."