excitement, and, feeling himself the centre of interest as an afflicted husband, passed from bar to kitchen, and kitchen to bar, recounting details of other "spells," staged by both this and the first Mrs. Bye. It was a serious business being a husband, and a man had need for a steady head and a sound edication. In fact, it was an edication in itself.
The next day Mrs. Bye was said to be out of danger, but she looked so ill that the girls were frightened when they crept in to see her. Her eyes were so large and blue, her face so ivory yellow, and her air so gentle and remote that she seemed to belong to another world.
Mrs. Jessop turned to and did the cooking, bringing an atmosphere of solid efficiency into the kitchen, very different from Mrs. Bye's nervous haste. There was no loitering when she was at the helm, though she took time to be coy when Bastien came into the kitchen. Once he stole behind her and untied her apron-strings, and she, grinning widely, dabbed flour at his face.
In a week Mrs. Bye was able to sit up, propped by pillows, but Charley began to be anxious about the slowness of her recovery. Mr. Hodgins, the owner of The Duke of York, was expected almost any time and Charley was deeply perturbed lest Mrs. Jessop should intimate to him that a delicate cook was a doubtful asset. Suppose they should lose their situations! Behind his calm brow fearful thoughts, like slow-moving shellfish, circled about. As his wife had said, behind his seeming foolishness he had a deal of sound sense. Deep misgivings now hung over him like a cloud. He was offended that Mrs. Bye did not seem to share them. For the first time since their marriage her mind seemed to be turned inward on her own selfish comforts. While he discoursed at length upon the dangers of a too-prolonged convalescence
