As soon as his first anger had abated, he had gone up to Diana’s bedroom, only to find that she had flown. Never for one instant had he imagined that she meant what she had said. The sight of her dismantled dressing-table was a shock to him. He sat limply down upon the bed, trying to realise that she had really gone.

At first he was indignant and thought himself badly used. This mood lasted until after lunch, when he was forced to excuse Diana's sudden departure to the maids. He went for a long walk that afternoon, fighting out the problem with himself. He came home to tea, tired and dispirited, and was conscious of a sickening gap in his life when he saw Diana’s empty chair behind the tea-table. Except on rare occasions, the maids were not allowed to touch anything in the library, so that now the shattered Ming vase still lay upon the floor.

Gloomily George regarded it, reflecting on the loss of so wonderful a treasure. Then he thought of the greater loss of his wife and grew gloomier still. The sight of the smashed vase, lying lonely on the floor, induced a sentimental frame of mind. He reviewed the events of the day, and thought that, perhaps, Diana had not been altogether to blame.

As far as he remembered, he had been unusually irritable. He ought not to have snapped at her about the eggs. But that did not excuse her offence in breaking the Ming vase. Still, he should not have refused to accept her apology. It must have cost her something to beg his pardon so sweetly. He remembered her little clinging hand, and the repentant catch in her voice. Hang it all, he had been a bit of a brute!

Yet she had no right to say that he cared more for his china than for her. She must have known that it was untrue. Even if he had been rather absorbed occasionally, she ought to have known that it did not mean that he loved his china best. Of course, she was very young. He had no right to make her feel herself neglected. Something would have to be done about that.

Gradually he came to a great resolution. He would try to be interested in the things that Diana liked. It was no good expecting her to feel as he did about china. He must try not to be so absorbed in it. In fact—he drew a deep, self-pitying sigh—he had better learn to dance.

GEORGE was summoned to lunch at Mrs. Grafton’s club next morning. When that lady heard the worried note in his voice she chuckled, well pleased.

Over lunch she lectured him severely. He tried at first to justify himself, but collapsed at last. Mrs. Grafton told him that he would have to learn to adapt himself to Diana before she would return to him.

“But—won't she come back now?” he asked, miserably. “I thought if I told her I was sorry—”