Laura looked at Henry with a kind of desperation.

It was exactly, she thought, like climbing up a steep hill on an icy day-you slipped back as fast as you advanced.

"Shirley is too young," she said, "far too young."

"Come now, Laura, she's nineteen. One of my grandmothers was married at sixteen, and had twins before she was eighteen."

"That was a long time ago."

"And lots of people have married young in the war."

"And have already lived to regret it."

"Don't you think you're taking rather a gloomy view? Shirley and I shan't regret."

"You don't know that."

"Oh, but I do," he grinned at her. "I'm positive. I do really love Shirley madly. And I shall do everything I can to make her happy."

He looked at her hopefully. He said again:

"I really do love her."

As before, his patent sincerity disarmed Laura. He did love Shirley.

"I know, of course, that I'm not particularly well off-"

There again he was disarming. For it wasn't the financial angle that worried Laura. She had no ambition for Shirley to make what is called a 'good match.' Henry and Shirley would not have a large income to start life on, but they would have enough, if they were careful. Henry's prospects were no worse than those of hundreds of other young men released from the services with their way to make. He had good health, good brains, great charm of manner. Yes, perhaps that was it. It was his charm that made Laura mistrust him. No one had any right to have as much charm as Henry had.

She spoke again, a tone of authority in her voice.

"No, Henry. There can be no question of marriage as yet. A year's engagement, at least. That gives you both time to be sure you know your own minds."

"Really, Laura dear, you might be at least fifty. A heavy Victorian father rather than a sister."

"I have to stand in the place of a father to Shirley. That gives time for you to find a job and get yourself established."

"How depressing it all sounds." His smile was still charming. "I don't believe you want Shirley to marry anybody."

Laura flushed.

"Nonsense."

Henry was pleased with the success of his stray shaft. He went away to find Shirley.

"Laura," he said, "is being tiresome. Why shouldn't we get married? I don't want to wait. I hate waiting for things. Don't you? If one waits too long for anything, one loses interest. Of course we could go off and get quietly married at a registry office somewhere. How about it? It would save a lot of fuss."

"Oh no, Henry, we couldn't do that."

"I don't see why not? As I say, it would save a lot of fuss all round."

"I'm under age. Wouldn't we have to have Laura's consent?"

"Yes, I suppose you would. She's your legal guardian, isn't she? Or is it old what's his name?"

"I don't believe I actually know. Baldy is my trustee."

"The trouble is," said Henry, "that Laura doesn't like me."

"Oh, she does, Henry. I'm sure she does."

"No, she doesn't. She's jealous, of course."

Shirley looked troubled.

"Do you really think so?"

"She never has liked me-from the beginning. And I've taken a lot of trouble to be nice to her." Henry sounded injured.

"I know. You're sweet to her. But after all, Henry, we have sprung this rather suddenly on her. We've only known each other-what?-three weeks. I suppose it doesn't really matter if we have to wait a year."

"Darling, I don't want to wait a year. I want to marry you now-next week-to-morrow. Don't you want to marry me?"

"Oh, Henry, I do-I do."

Mr. Baldock had duly been asked to dinner to meet Henry. Afterwards Laura had demanded breathlessly:

"Well, what do you think of him?"

"Now, now, slowly. How can I judge across a dinner-table! Nice manners, doesn't treat me as an old fogey. Listens to me deferentially."

"Is that all you've got to say? Is he good enough for Shirley?"

"Nobody, my dear Laura, will ever be good enough for Shirley in your eyes."

"No, perhaps that's true… But do you like him?"

"Yes, I like him. What I'd call an agreeable fellow."

"You think he'll make her a good husband."

"Oh, I wouldn't go as far as that. I should strongly suspect that as a husband he might prove unsatisfactory in more ways than one."

"Then we can't let her marry him."

"We can't stop her marrying him, if she wants to. And I dare say he won't prove much more unsatisfactory than any other husband she might choose. I shouldn't think he'd beat her, or put arsenic in her coffee, or be rude to her in public. There's a lot to be said, Laura, for having a husband who's agreeable and got good manners."

"Do you know what I think about him? I think he's utterly selfish and-and ruthless."

Mr. Baldock raised his eyebrows.

"I shouldn't wonder if you weren't right."

"Well, then?"

"Yes, but she likes the fellow, Laura. She likes him very much. In fact, she's crazy about him. Young Henry mayn't be your cup of tea, and strictly speaking, he isn't my cup of tea, but there's no doubt that he is Shirley's cup of tea."

"If she could only see what he's really like!" cried Laura.

"Well, she'll find out," prophesied Mr. Baldock.

"When it's too late! I want her to see what he's like now!"

"Dare say it wouldn't make any difference. She means to have him, you know."

"If she could go away somewhere… On a cruise or to Switzerland-but everything's so difficult now since the war."

"If you ask me," said Mr. Baldock, "it's never any good trying to stop people marrying each other. Mind you, I'd have a try if there were some serious reason; if he had a wife and five children, or epileptic fits, or was wanted for embezzlement. But shall I tell you exactly what would happen if you did succeed in separating them and sending Shirley off on a cruise or to Switzerland or to a South Sea island?"

"Well?"

Mr. Baldock wagged an emphatic forefinger at her.

"She'd come back having teamed up with another young man of exactly the same kind. People know what they want. Shirley wants Henry, and if she can't get Henry, she'll look around until she finds a young man as like Henry as possible. I've seen it happen again and again. My very best friend was married to a woman who made his life hell on earth, nagged at him, bullied him, ordered him around, never a moment's peace, everybody wondering why he didn't take a hatchet to her. Then he had a bit of luck! She got double pneumonia and died! Six months later, he was looking like a new man. Several really nice women taking an interest in him. Eighteen months later, what has he done? Married a woman who was even a worse bitch than the first one. Human nature's a mystery."

He took a deep breath.

"So stop walking up and down looking like a tragedy queen, Laura. I've told you already you take life too seriously. You can't run other people's lives for them. Young Shirley has got her own row to hoe. And if you ask me, she can take care of herself a good deal better than you can. It's you I'm worried about, Laura. I always have been…"