"Mr.Stobell will be at tea at that time, and we're to drop in as though by accident." "What for ?" inquired Mr.Chalk, affecting surprise.

"Go up where ?" "To talk to Mr.Stobell," said his wife, grimly.

"Fancy, poor Mrs.
Stobell says that she is sure he won't let her come.

I wish he was my husband, that's all." Mr.Chalk muttered something about "doing a little gardening." "You can do that another time," said Mrs.Chalk, coldly.

"I've noticed you've been very fond of gardening lately." The allusion was too indirect to contest, but Mr.Chalk reddened despite himself, and his wife, after regarding his confusion with a questioning eye, left him to his own devices and his conscience.
Mr.Stobell and his wife had just sat down to tea when they arrived, and Mrs.Stobell, rising from behind a huge tea-pot, gave a little cry of surprise as her friend entered the room, and kissed her affectionately.
[Illustration: "Mrs.Stobell."] "Well, who would have thought of seeing you ?" she cried.