'Nothing could be better,' said Amy in colloquy with her husband. 'If he will pay for the extra time, we shall be only too glad.'

Reardon mused and looked gloomy. He could not bring himself to regard the experiment before him with hopefulness, and his heart sank at the thought of parting from Amy.

'You are very anxious to get rid of me,' he answered, trying to smile.

'Yes, I am,' she exclaimed; 'but simply for your own good, as you know very well.'

'Suppose I can't sell this book?'

'You will have a few pounds. Send your "Pliny" article to The Wayside. If you come to an end of all your money, mother shall lend you some.'

'I am not very likely to do much work in that case.'

'Oh, but you will sell the book. You'll get twenty pounds for it, and that alone would keep you for three months. Think--three months of the best part of the year at the seaside! Oh, you will do wonders!'