liked Charley, though nobody respected him. He was a scamp, but a
lovable scamp, while Jane, with the best intentions in the world, had
managed to make every virtue unattractive. When people condemned him,
they said that he was "utterly unprincipled"; when they softened in
their judgment, they admitted that he had "the best heart in the world."

"I suppose it isn't any worse than other attacks," answered Gabriella,
"but you know what they are like."

"Yes, I know," replied Charley. "Oh, Lord, don't I?"

"She asked mother to send for you," continued Gabriella. "She wants you
to know that she has forgiven you."

"Has she?" said Charley, without elation. Turning away, he stared for a
minute or two at the engraving of the children feeding fish in a pond;
then, with his eyes still glued to the picture, he burst out
passionately: "Gabriella, I'd hoped she wouldn't this time!"

"If I were she," retorted Gabriella crushingly, "I would never speak to
you again until the day of my death."

"If she were you," rejoined Charley, with barefaced audacity, "I'd have
been a good husband. Why, I was simply starving to be a good husband
when I married Jane. It's my ideal in life. I'm all for the domestic
thing by nature. I was tired--positively dog-tired of the other kind. I
wanted a wife. I adored--I've always adored babies--"

"If that is true," returned Gabriella sternly, for she was not disposed
to soften to Charley, and in her heart she deeply resented what she