why people marry each other, can you?" Bernard was becoming
philosophical. I suppose if you go to the bottom it's Nature
that takes them by the scruff of the neck and gives them a gentle
shove and says 'More babies, please.' She doesn't always bring it
off though, witness you and me, my love.-- But I say, Laura, I
like the way you handed over that letter! Thought it would do me
good, didn't you? Look here, I can't have my character taken
away behind my back! You tell him to come and judge for
himself."

"You'll get very tired of him, Berns," said Laura doubtfully.
"You always say you get sick of people in twenty-four hours: and
I can't take him entirely off your hands--you'll have to do your
share of entertaining him. He's your cousin, not mine, and it'll
be you he comes to see."

"I shan't see any more of him than I want to, my dear, on that
you may depend," said Bernard with easy emphasis. "If he
invites himself he'll have to put with what he can get. But
I can stand a good deal of him. Regimental shop is always
amusing, and Lawrence will know heaps of fellows I used to know,
and tell me what's become of them all. Besides, I'm sick to
death of the local gang and Lawrence will be a change. He's got
more brains than Jack Bendish, and from the style of his letter
he can't be so much like a curate as Val is." Val Stafford was
agent for the Wanhope property. "Oh, by George!"

"What's the matter?"

Bernard threw back his head and grinned broadly with half shut