"I'm gone dotty!" he said to his soul. "I'm gone dotty!" And his eyes
watched his fingers take six sovereigns out of the box, and count them
into her small white hand. And his cheek felt her kiss.

She went off with twenty-six pounds--twenty-six pounds! The episode was
entirely incredible.

Breakfast was a most pleasing meal. Though acknowledging himself an
imbecile, he was obliged to acknowledge also that a certain pleasure
springs from a certain sort of imbecility. Helen was adorable.

Now that same morning he had received from Mrs. Prockter a flattering
note, asking him, if he could spare the time, to go up to Hillport and
examine Wilbraham Hall with her, and give her his expert advice as to
its value, etc. He informed Helen of the plan.

"I'll go with you," she said at once.

"What's in the wind?" he asked himself. He saw in the suggestion a
device for seeing Emanuel.

"The fact is," she added, "I want to show you a house up at Hillport
that might do for us."

He winced. She had said nothing about a removal for quite some time. He
hated the notion of removal. ("Flitting," he called it.) It would mean
extra expense, too. As for Hillport, he was sure that nothing, except
cottages, could be got in Hillport for less than fifty pounds a year. If
she thought he was going to increase his rent by thirty-two pounds a
year, besides rates, she was in error. The breakfast finished in a