TheyallcametothetrainwhentheMarchesstarteduptoLondon，andstoodwavingtothemastheypulledoutofthestation。“Well，Ican’tseebutthat’sallright。”hesaidashesankbackinhisseatwithasighofrelief。“Ineversupposedweshouldgetoutoftheirmarriagehalfsowell，andIdon’tfeelthatyouquitemadethematcheither，mydear。”

　　ShewasforcedtoagreewithhimthattheKenbysseemedhappytogether，andthattherewasnothingtofearforRoseintheirhappiness。HewouldbeastenderlycaredforbyKenbyashecouldhavebeenbyhismother，andfarmorejudiciously。Sheownedthatshehadtrembledforhimtillshehadseenthemalltogether；andnowsheshouldnevertrembleagain。

　　“Well？”Marchprompted，atacertaininconclusivenessinhertoneratherthanherwords。

　　“Well，youcanseethatit，isn’tideal。”

　　“Whyisn’titideal？IsupposeyouthinkthatthemarriageofBurnamyandAgathaTriscoewillbeideal，withtheirignorancesandinexperiencesandillusions。”

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