The Strange Boarders of Palace Crescent by E. Phillips Oppenheim

Her bathing dress and a certain joyous grace of carriage, which only happiness can develop, had revealed to Roger Ferrison and to such of the world who dwelt in the old-fashioned village of Porletto a charm in his young wife which would certainly never have blossomed out behind the counter of Mallory's or under the roof of Palace Crescent. The tan upon his own cheeks, too, his broadened shoulders, an increased air of confidence which marches with prosperity, had made him a fitting mate even for an unexpectedly discovered beauty. They were both exceedingly pleased with each other. They were both very much in love.

"If I have an ungratified wish in the world," Audrey murmured, listening more to the roll of the sea in the bay below them than to her own words, "it is to know the end of all that trouble at Palace Crescent. Do you ever think of the place, Roger?"