"Really, you know," said George Keets, "there are times when even I can imagine that marriage might be just a little bit jolly."
"Oh never jolly," grinned my Husband, "but there are times I frankly admit—when it seems a heap more serious than it does at other times."
"Less serious, you mean," corrected Keets.
"More serious," grinned my Husband.
"Oh, for goodness sake, let's stop talking about us," I protested, "and talk about the weather!"
"It was the weather that I came to talk about," exclaimed George Keets. "Do you think it will clear to-day?" he questioned.
For a single mocking instant my Husband's glance sought mine.
"No, not to-day, George," he said.
"U—m!" mused George Keets. "Then in that case," he brightened suddenly, "if Mrs. Delville is really willing to put up a water-proof lunch we think it would be rather good sport to go back to the cave and explore a bit more of the beach perhaps and bring home Heaven knows what fresh plunder from the shipwrecked trunk."
"Oh, how jolly!" I agreed. "But will Mrs. Brenswick go?"