husband's way to a position in the world."

"A position in the world!" cried Mr. Kendrew. "Here is a man whose
father has left him half a million of money--with the one condition
annexed to it of taking his father's place at the head of one of the
greatest mercantile houses in England. And he talks about a position,
as if he was a junior clerk in his own office! What on earth does your
ambition see, beyond what your ambition has already got?"

Mr. Vanborough finished his glass of wine, and looked his friend
steadily in the face.

"My ambition," he said, "sees a Parliamentary career, with a Peerage at
the end of it--and with no obstacle in the way but my estimable wife."

Mr. Kendrew lifted his hand warningly. "Don't talk in that way,"
he said. "If you're joking--it's a joke I don't see. If you're in
earnest--you force a suspicion on me which I would rather not feel. Let
us change the subject."

"No! Let us have it out at once. What do you suspect?"

"I suspect you are getting tired of your wife."

"She is forty-two, and I am thirty-five; and I have been married to her
for thirteen years. You know all that--and you only suspect I am tired
of her. Bless your innocence! Have you any thing more to say?"

"If you force me to it, I take the freedom of an old friend, and I say
you are not treating her fairly. It's nearly two years since you broke