ut protest."

"But you must admit that mother _is_ a bit awful when she breaks loose."

"No. I've never known your mother awful, or even a bit awful."

"You aren't being intellectually honest, dad."

"I am."

"Ah! Well, of course she only shows her best side to _you_."

"She has no other side. In that sense she is certainly one-sided. Here!
Have another." Mr. Prohack took the apple from his pocket, and threw it
across the table to Sissie, who caught it.

II

Mr. Prohack was extremely happy; and Sissie too, in so far as concerned
the chat with her father, was extremely happy. They adored each other,
and they adored the awful woman laid low with a headache. Sissie's hat
and cloak, which she had dropped carelessly on a chair, slipped to the
floor, the hat carried away by the cloak. Mr. Prohack rose and picked
them up, took them out of the room, and returned.

"So now you've straightened up, and you're pleased with yourself,"
observed Sissie.

"So now," said he. "Perhaps I may turn on my curiosity tap."

"Don't," said Sissie. "I'm very gloomy. I'm very disappointed. I might
burst into tears at any moment.... Yes, I'm not joking."

"Out with it."

"Oh, it's nothing! It's only that I saw a chance of making some money
and it hasn't come off."

"But what do you want to make money for?"

"I like that. Hasn't mother been telling me off and on all day that
something will have to be done?"

"Done about what?"

"About economy, naturally." Sissie spoke rather sharply.

"But you don't mean your mother has spent the day in urging you to go
forth and earn money!"

"Of course she hasn't, father. How absurd you are! You know very well
mother would hate the idea of me earning money. Hate it! But I mean to
earn some. Surely it's much better to bring more money in than to pinch
and scrape. I loathe pinching and scraping."

"It's a sound loathing."

"And I thought I'd got hold of a scheme. But it's too big. I have fifty
pounds odd of my own, but what use is fifty pounds when a hundred's
needed? It's all off and I'm in the last stage of depression."

She threw away the core of the second apple.

"Is that port? I'll have some."

"So that you're short of fifty pounds?" said Mr. Prohack, obediently
pouring out the port--but only half a glass. "Well, I might be able to
let you have fifty pounds myself, if you would deign to accept it."

Sissie cried compassionately: "But you haven't got a cent, dad!"

"Oh!