daughter of the prosperous
Streatham builder and contractor, Samuel Triggs, nobody knew, but his
father had congratulated him very cordially about having contrived to
marry her. Miss Triggs's friends to a woman were of the firm
conviction that it was Miss Triggs who had married Mr. Bonsor.
"'Ettie's so ambitious." remarked her father soon after the wedding,
"that it's almost a relief to get 'er married."

Mr. Bonsor was scarcely back from his honeymoon before he was in full
possession of the fact that Mrs. Bonsor had determined that he should
become famous. She had read how helpful many great men's wives had
been in their career, and she determined to be the power behind the
indeterminate Arthur Bonsor. Poor Mr. Bonsor, who desired nothing
better than a peaceable life and had looked forward to a future of ease
and prosperity when he married Miss Triggs, discovered when too late
that he had married not so much Miss Triggs, as an abstract sense of
ambition. Domestic peace was to be purchased only by an attitude of
entire submission to Mrs. Bonsor's schemes. He was not without brains,
but he lacked that impetus necessary to "getting on." Mrs. Bonsor, who
was not lacking in shrewdness, observed this and determined that she
herself would be the impetus.

Mr. Bonsor came to dread meal-times, that is meal-times _tete-a-tete_.
During these symposiums he was subjected to an elaborate
cross-examination as to what he was doing to achieve greatness. Mrs.
Bonsor insisted upon his being present at every important function to
which he could gain admittance, particularly the funerals of the
illustrious great. Egged on by her he became an inveterate writer of
letters to the newspapers, particularly _The Times_. Sometimes his
letters appeared, which caused Mrs. Bonsor intense gratification: but
editors soon became shy of a man who bombarded them with letters upon
every conceivable subject, from the submarine menace to the question of
"should women wear last year's frocks?"

Mr. Triggs had once described his daughter very happily: "'Ettie's one
of them that ain't content with pressing a bell, but she must keep 'er
thumb on the bell-push." That was Mrs. Bonsor all over; she lacked
restraint, both physical and artistic, and she conceived that if you
only make noise enough people will, sooner or later, begin to take
notice.

Within three years of his marriage, Mr. Bonsor entered the House of
Commons. He had first of all foug