all the privileges of the worst kind of invalid; and you've got
it, Francesca, and I'm left scatheless in a position of unlimited power and
no responsibility."

"Yes," she said, "it's terrible, but you will use your strength
mercifully."

"I'm not at all sure about that. At first I felt like one of those old
prisoner Johnnies--Baron TRENCK, you know, or LATUDE--who were all shaky
and mild when they were at last released; but now I've had time to
think--yes, I've had time to think."

"And what is the result of your thoughts?"

"The result," I said, "is that I'm determined to do things thoroughly. I've
mastered all your jealously-guarded secrets and I've allowed the strong
wind of a man's intellect to blow through them. I am facing the cook on a
new system and am dealing with the tradesmen in a spirit of inexorable
resolution. The housemaid is being brought to heel and has already begun
not to leave her brushes and dust-pans lying about on the floors of the
library and the drawing-room. Stern measures are being taken with the
kitchen-maid; and Parkins, that ancient servitor, is slowly being reduced
to obedience. Even the garden is feeling the new influence and potatoes are
being planted where no potatoes were ever planted before. Everything, in
fact, is being reformed."

"I warn you," said Francesca, "that your reforms will not be allowed to go
on. As soon as I can get rid of the German measles I shall restore
everything to its former condition."

"But that," I said, "is the counter-revolution."

"It is; and it's going to begin as soon as I get out of bed."

"And what are you going to bring out of bed with you?"

"Common sense," said Francesca.

"Not at all," I said. "You're going to bring out of bed with you that hard
reactionary bureaucratic spirit which all but ruined Russia and is in
process of ruining Germany. It will be just as if the TSARITSA got loose
and began to have her own way again. By the way, Francesca, what does one
do when the butcher says there won't be any haunch of mutton till Tuesday,
or when the grocer refuses you your due amount of sugar?"

"A TSARITSA," said Francesca haughtily, "cannot concern herself with sugar
or haunches of mutton."

"But suppose that the TSARITSA has got German measles. Couldn't she manage
to beat up an interest in mundane affairs?"

"I'll tell you what," said Francesca.

"Do," I said; "I'm dying to hear it."

"Well, you'd better let the strong wind of a man'