Alicia, better dressed than usual, with a new vanity bag and a rather dashing hat, had been seated in Ben's room for many minutes before she could bring herself to be explicit and admit that she had received an offer of marriage. From a widower, a retired ironmaster, living at Hove. In one of the avenues, she added; with his sister: a horrid woman. They had met at a sÉance, for he, too, was interested in spiritualism and was in communication with his late wife. At least he had tried to be, but that lady had refused to be communicative because, she said, there was someone antipathetic to her in the room.

"You, I suppose," said Ben, in her blunt way.

"I don't know why you should say so," said Alicia, hurt.

"I don't see why she should rejoice in your presence, anyway," Ben replied. "It can't be much fun for dead wives, out of it for ever, watching their husbands preparing for a second marriage."

"That's just it," said Alicia, with a groan.

"What do you mean?" Ben asked.

"Nothing," said Alicia, and was silent for quite a long while.

"Do you want to marry him?" Ben asked.

"I don't dislike him," said Alicia, "but it is very sudden. I had never expected anything of the kind to happen, or indeed thought about it. As you know, I was anticipating a lonely life dedicated to the boys. And if it weren't for the boys I shouldn't consider it now, for an instant. But of course it would be good for them. He is so fond of them, and a man is a better influence than a weak, fond mother."

"So you will say yes?" said Ben.

"I don't know, oh, I don't know," said Alicia, dismally, with a glance at her pocket mirror. "You see," she added, "there's Bertrand. He ought to be told."

"I thought you said that he knew everything about you," said Ben.

"So I have thought," said Alicia. "But he ought to be told formally. And that can be done only through the medium, and I don't want her to know. I've never liked her, apart from her calling. Not a lady, by a long way. Not even the third drawer! But if Bertrand knew, wouldn't he have let me know? Some little message of encouragement? Surely! But no, nothing. I used to feel so certain of him, but now it's all changed. Do you think I'm becoming less psychic or that he's cross?"

"I hope you're becoming less psychic," said Ben. "You oughtn't to marry retired iron-masters and be psychic too. Bertrand was a very just man," she continued. "He couldn't be so unreasonable as to wish you to be deprived of the company and consolation of a second husband."

"I'm not sure," said Alicia. "I feel that he counts on me, and I may lose him if I marry again."

"I suppose, to a certain extent, you would," said Ben.

"You think so?" Alicia asked eagerly.

"Yes, I think you would," said Ben. "It's only natural. And I think if you married you would want to, too."

"Want to lose Bertrand?" Alicia asked in amazement.

"Yes. It would be very awkward to have both."

"I suppose it would," Alicia admitted.

"And besides," said Ben, "after all, you may have been mistaken about conversing with Bertrand at all. The whole thing may be an hallucination, proceeding from yourself. The wish the father to the thought, you know."

"Do you think so?" Alicia asked with some excitement. "Do you think I have imagined it all and Bertrand and I have had no communication?"

"I think it quite possible," said Ben. "You'll never be able to prove it, of course. Anyway, from what I remember of Bertrand, he would want you to be happy, and he would like his boys to be looked after."

"You think he would?" Alicia asked.

"I'm certain of it," said Ben.

"Then you would marry Mr. Redforth?"

"If I liked him sufficiently, and trusted him, yes," said Ben. "In any case I should not let the vague possibility of Bertrand's disapproval deprive me of the chance of new happiness."

"Ben, you're a darling!" said Alicia, kissing her impulsively. "I'll do it."

"And what about Mr. Redforth's sister?" Ben asked.

"Oh, she must make her own arrangements," said Alicia.