‘I’m taking you to Gerald, my girl. ‘Here she is. ” They clambered down the hill together. The whole incident was so unexpected that neither Courtlaw nor Brendon were awaiting. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. She made up her mind in the train home that it should be a decisive crisis. Then pain entered their depths. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf.
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