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    â€˜Daughter,’ said the Venus Annodomini. ‘She’s been out for a year at Home already, and I want her to see a little of India. She is nineteen and a very sensible nice girl I believe.’
    â€˜Very Young’ Gayerson, who was a short twenty-two years old, nearly fell out of his chair with astonishment; for he had persisted in believing, against all belief, in the youth of the Venus Annodomini. She, with her back to the curtained window, watched the effect of her sentences and smiled.
    â€˜Very Young’ Gayerson’s papa came up twelve days later, and had not been in Simla four-and-twenty hours, before two men, old acquaintances of his, had told him how ‘Very Young’ Gayerson had been conducting himself.
    â€˜Young’ Gayerson laughed a good deal, and inquired who the Venus Annodomini might be. Which proves that he had been living in Bengal where nobody knows anything except the rate of Exchange. Then he said boys will be boys, and spoke to his son about the matter. ‘Very Young’ Gayerson said that he felt wretched and unhappy; and ‘Young’ Gayerson said that he repented of having helped to bring a fool into the world. He suggested that his son had better cut his leave short and go down to his duties. This led to an unfilial answer, and relations were strained, until ‘Young’ Gayerson demanded that they should call on the Venus Annodomini. ‘Very Young’ Gayerson went with his papa, feeling, somehow, uncomfortable and small.
    The Venus Annodomini received them graciously and ‘Young’ Gayerson said, ‘By Jove! It’s Kitty!’ ‘Very Young’ Gayerson would have listened for an explanation, if his time had not been taken up with trying to talk to a large, handsome, quiet, well-dressed girl – introduced to him by the Venus Annodomini as her daughter. She was far older in manner,style, and repose than ‘Very Young’ Gayerson; and, as he realized this thing, he felt sick.
    Presently, he heard the Venus Annodomini saying, ‘Do you know that your son is one of my most devoted admirers?’
    â€˜I don’t wonder,’ said ‘Young’ Gayerson. Here he raised his voice, ‘He follows his father’s footsteps. Didn’t I worship the ground you trod on, ever so long ago, Kitty – and you haven’t changed since then. How strange it all seems!’
    â€˜Very Young’ Gayerson said nothing. His conversation with the daughter of the Venus Annodomini was, through the rest of the call, fragmentary and disjointed.
    â€˜At five tomorrow then,’ said the Venus Annodomini. ‘And mind you are punctual.’
    â€˜At five punctually,’ said ‘Young’ Gayerson. ‘You can lend your old father a horse I daresay, youngster, can’t you? I’m going for a ride tomorrow afternoon.’
    â€˜Certainly,’ said ‘Very Young’ Gayerson. ‘I am going down tomorrow morning. My ponies are at your service, Sir.’
    The Venus Annodomini looked at him across the half-light of the room, and her big grey eyes filled with moisture. She rose and shook hands with him.
    â€˜Goodbye, Tom,’ whispered the Venus Annodomini.

His Wedded Wife 1
    Cry ‘Murder!’ in the market-place, and each
Will turn upon his neighbour anxious eyes
That ask – ‘Art thou the man?’ We hunted Cain,
Some centuries ago, across the world.
That bred the fear our own misdeeds maintain
Today.
    Vibart’s Moralities
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    Shakespeare says something about worms, or it may be giants or beetles, 2 turning if you tread on them too severely. The safest plan is never to tread on a worm – not even on the last new subaltern from Home, with his buttons hardly out of their tissue-paper, and the red of sappy English beef in his cheeks. This is a story of the worm that turned. For the sake of brevity, we will call Henry Augustus Ramsay Faizanne, ‘The