s, the elder among them existed in a state of chronic protest
against Lady Lundie, and the younger were absorbed in the essentially
serious occupation of considering and comparing their wedding-dresses.
The two young gentlemen from the University performed prodigies of
yawning, in the intervals of prodigies of billiard playing. Smith said,
in despair, "There's no making things pleasant in this house, Jones."
And Jones sighed, and mildly agreed with him.

On the Sunday evening--which was the evening before the marriage--the
dullness, as a matter of course, reached its climax.

But two of the occupations in which people may indulge on week days are
regarded as harmless on Sunday by the obstinately anti-Christian tone of
feeling which prevails in this matter among the Anglo-Saxon race. It is
not sinful to wrangle in religious controversy; and it is not sinful
to slumber over a religious book. The ladies at Ham Farm practiced the
pious observance of the evening on this plan. The seniors of the sex
wrangled in Sunday controversy; and the juniors of the sex slumbered
over Sunday books. As for the men, it is unnecessary to say that the
young ones smoked when they were not yawning, and yawned when they were
not smoking. Sir Patrick staid in the library, sorting old letters and
examining old accounts. Every person in the house felt the oppression of
the senseless social prohibitions which they had imposed on themselves.
And yet every person in the house would have been scandalized if the
plain question had been put: You know this is a tyranny of your own
making, you know you don't really believe in it, you know you don't
really like it--why do you submit? The freest people on the civilized
earth are the only people on the civilized earth who dare not face that
question.

The evening dragged its slow length on; the welcome time drew nearer and
nearer for oblivion in bed. Arnold was silently contemplating, for the
last time, his customary prospects of banishment to the inn, when he
became aware that Sir Patrick was making signs to him. He rose and
followed his host into the empty dining-room. Sir Patrick carefully
closed the door. What did it mean?

It meant--so far as Arnold was concerned--that a private conversation
was about to diversify the monotony of the long Sunday evening at Ham
Farm.

"I have a word to say to you, Arnold," the old gentleman began, "before
you become a married man. Do you remember the conversation at