"You are exceedingly kind; I shall be only too delighted."
"When will you be home?"
"I can be home at any time—there is nothing to keep me."
"Well, then, come as soon as you like, the sooner the better. And now I must say good-night and good-bye too, I fear, for we are off early to-morrow. I shall be glad enough to be home; I'm dead sick of the travelling. Good-night, old fellow; it has been a real pleasure to meet you."
And, positively, this was the only evening out of his whole wedding-trip that Maurice had thoroughly enjoyed.
"What on earth kept you out so late with that solemn young prig?" says his wife to him as he opens her door.
"I find him a very pleasant companion, and I have asked him to come to Kynaston," answers Maurice, shortly.
"Umph!" grunts Helen, and inwardly determines that his visit shall be a short one.
Four days later they were in England again.
It was only when the train had actually stopped at Sutton, and he was handing his wife into her own carriage under the arch of greenery across the road, and amid the ringing cheers of the rustics, who had gathered to see them arrive, that Maurice began to realise how powerfully that home-coming was to be tinged in his own mind with thoughts of her who was once so nearly going as a bride to the same house where now he was taking Helen.