Also he could talk quite marvellously." "Yes, Blantyre could talk--once," Byng intervened, gently.
"We were married secretly." Byng made a gesture of amazement, and his face became shocked and grave.

"Married! Married! You were married to Blantyre ?" "At a registry office in Chelsea.

One month, only one month it was, and then he went away to Madeira to paint--'a big commission,' he said; and he would send for me as soon as he could get money in hand--certainly in a couple of months.

He had taken most of my half-year's income--I had been left four hundred a year by my mother." Byng muttered a malediction under his breath and leaned towards her sympathetically.
With an effort she continued.

"From Madeira he wrote to tell me he was going on to South Africa, and would not be home for a year.