uch else to do."

"See here," said I; "this is a put-up job: I will have you all indicted
for conspiracy. Have you no proper respect for the head of the house?"

"We would like to," my spouse replied: "we make every effort: but it is
so difficult! Mr. Hartman, he wants to manage every little matter,
particularly those which pertain exclusively to women, and which he
cannot understand at all."

"Yes," said Jane; "would you believe it, Mr. Hartman, he attempted to
instruct us as to the proper manner of receiving you! But that is not
the worst of it. He is utterly unable to keep a secret--not that any one
would entrust him with secrets of the least importance, of course. And
when he thinks he knows something that we do not know, he goes about
looking so solemn that even Herbert can detect him at once. And in such
cases he actually comes to us, and questions us about the matter, with a
view to throwing us off the scent, and keeping dark, as he calls it. Did
you ever hear of such absurdity?"

"Ladies and gentleman," I said with dignity, "would you mind excusing me
for a few moments? I would like to retire to the rocks outside, and
swear a bit."

"Robert!" my wife cried, "I am ashamed of you. What will Mr. Hartman
think of your morals?" You see, they think Jim is a very correct young
man.

"O, I know him of old," he said. "Never mind, Bob, I will stand by you.
Really, you are a little hard on him. He has improved; I assure you he
has. Why, he was quite a cub at college. Your softening influences have
done a great deal for him; everything, in fact."

"It is very nice in you to say so, Mr. Hartman, and very polite, and
very loyal; but I know Robert. Clarice does him a little good: she would
do very much more, if he were not so stiff-necked. He thinks he is a
man, and we are only women."

"Well," I asked, "are you going to dispute that proposition? If so, I
will leave Hartman to argue it out with you."

"Mr. Hartman," said Jane, "he thinks he knows everything, and women are
inferior creatures. O, such a superior being as he is!"

"This is getting monotonous," I remarked. "Suppose, for a change, we
abuse Clarice, as she is not here; that will be pleasanter all round,
and less unconventional. Now that girl does a great deal of harm,
turning the heads of so many foolish young men. She spends more on her
dress than you and I do together, Hartman. What an aim in life for a
rational being! Simply to look pretty, and produc