Nora.

"You sent Ed in to tell me you was goin' to apologize for what you'd
said, didn't you?"

"And I'm ready to: for peace and quietness."

"Well, what you said was before the men, and it's before the men you
must say you're sorry."

"How can you ask me to do such a thing!" cried Nora indignantly.

"Don't be rough on her, Gertie," pleaded her husband. "No one likes
apologizing."

"People who don't like apologizing should keep a better lookout on their
tongue."

"It can't do you any good to make her eat humble pie before the men."

"Perhaps it won't do _me_ any good, but it'll do _her_ good!"

"Gertie, don't be cruel. I'm sorry if I lost my temper just now, and
said anything that hurt you. But please don't make me humiliate myself
before the others."

"I've made up my mind," said Gertie, folding her arms across her breast,
"so it's no good talking."

"Don't you see that it's bad enough to have to beg your pardon before
Eddie?"

"Good Lord!" said Gertie irritably, "why can't you call him Ed like the
rest of us. 'Eddie' sounds so sappy."

"I've called him Eddie all my life: it's what our mother called him,"
said Nora sadly.

"Oh, it's all of a piece. You do everything you can to make yourself
different from all of us."

She stalked over to the window and stood with folded arms looking out
toward the wood-pile on which Reggie was seated--it is to be presumed
having a moment's respite after his arduous labors.

"No, I don't," pleaded Nora. "At least I don't mean to. Why won't you
give me any credit for trying to do my best to please you?"

"That's neither here nor there." She suddenly wheeled about, facing them
both. "Go and fetch the men, Ed, and then I'll hear what she's got to
say."

"No, I won't, I won't, I won't!" cried Nora furiously. "You drive me too
far."

"You won't beg my pardon?" demanded Gertie threateningly. If she wished
to drive Nora beside herself, she accomplished her purpose.

"I said I could teach you manners," she gave a hysterical laugh, "I made
a mistake. I _couldn't_ teach you manners, for one can't make a silk
purse out of a sow's ear."

"Shut up, Nora," said her brother sharply.

"Now you must make her, Ed," said Gertie grimly.

He replied with a despairing gesture.

"I'm sick to death of the pair of you!"

"I'm your wife, and I'm going to be mistress of this house--my house."

"It's horrible to make her eat humble pie before three strange men.
You've no right t