April. Mark's ship had left Port Said nine days ago.

Mamma had come in with the letter.

"I've got news for you. Guess."

"Mark's coming to-day."

"No.... Mr. Jourdain was married yesterday."

"Who--to?"

"Some girl he used to see in Sussex."

(That one. She was glad it was the little girl, the poor one. Nice of
Maurice to marry her.)

"Do you mind, Mary?"

"No, not a bit. I hope they'll be happy. I want them to be happy.... Now,
you see--that was why he didn't want to marry me."

Her mother sat down on the bed. There was something she was going to say.

"Well--thank goodness that's the last of it."

"Does Mark know?"

"No, he does not. You surely don't imagine anybody would tell him a thing