"Are you sure?"
"Yes, dear."
"I am glad to hear you say so, Nansie. I am the same as ever, eh?"
"Yes, Kingsley, the same as ever; but we will not part again."
"No, indeed! I don't intend that we shall--because, although we have been separated but a short time, my head has got full of fancies about this and that--foreign countries--outlandish places--strange people--rapid journeys--accidents even, but dreams, all of them, Nansie. They must be dreams, or I could fix them with greater certainty. Now, you know my old way, my dear; when anything was troubling me I used to say, 'What is the use? It won't make things better.' There is only one wise way to look upon life--make light of things. You remember a favorite saying of mine--it was from a song, I think, was it not? 'Never trouble trouble, till trouble troubles you.' And that is the way we will go through life together, eh, my love?"
"Yes, Kingsley," said Nansie, and would have said more, but for a sudden trembling that came over him, which caused him to cling to her for support.
"What is the matter, Kingsley?"
"To tell you the truth, my dear," he replied, with a wan, whimsical smile, "you would hardly believe it, but I think I am hungry!"
"Hungry! Oh, Kingsley!"
"Well, yes; such a careless, neglectful fellow as you have got for a husband, Nansie, never thinking of things at the right moment, never taking into account that it is necessary to eat even, until it is forced upon him that he must eat to live. And talking of eating to live--is there anything in the larder, Nansie?"