He said no more; and indeed, words seemed to be useless.

So he chose the house himself,--one that could not fail to please
Bella, he felt exultantly. She would be less than woman if she were
not glad to exchange the second-rate little dwelling in the
Camberwell New Road for the substantial residence, with its modern
improvements and embellishments in such a neighbourhood as Camelot
Square.

It was not perhaps a palace, but it was a very great deal more
imposing than anything they had dreamt of in the early days of their
married life, and yet John Chetwynd told himself with a sigh that he
would gladly give up fame and prosperity to win back the old
love-light in his wife's eyes.

And there are some among us who cannot love for so little--"Of man's
love a thing apart." Perhaps John Chetwynd would have been a happier
man had he been one of these.

Even the task of furnishing fell to the doctor's lot. Bella did not
refuse, nor did she object to accompany him on what he might have
naturally supposed would be a congenial task for her, but she showed
herself so indifferent throughout that, after an effort or two to
make her contented, he gave it up, and it ended in his carrying the
whole thing through himself.

And he was not sorry when at length it was completed. On the morrow
he would bring Bella to her new home.