a vice peculiar to men. I dislike him because he is generally
in the wake of some girl, disappointing the Eligibles. He will persecute
May Holt no more, unless I am much mistaken.'

'No. I think Mrs. Delville may occupy his attention for a while.'

'Do you suppose she knows that he is the head of a family?'

'Not from his lips. He swore me to eternal secrecy. Wherefore I tell
you. Don't you know that type of man?'

'Not intimately, thank goodness! As a general rule, when a man begins to
abuse his wife to me, I find that the Lord gives me wherewith to answer
him according to his folly; and we part with a coolness between us. I
laugh.'

'I'm different. I've no sense of humour.'

'Cultivate it, then. It has been my mainstay for more years than I care
to think about. A well-educated sense of humour will save a woman
when Religion, Training, and Home influences fail; and we may all need
salvation sometimes.'

'Do you suppose that the Delville woman has humour?'

'Her dress betrays her. How can a Thing who wears her supplement under
her left arm have any notion of the fitness of things much less their
folly? If she discards The Dancing Master after having once seen him
dance, I may respect her. Otherwise--'

'But are we not both assuming a great deal too much, dear? You saw
the woman at Peliti's half an hour later you saw her walking with The
Dancing Master an hour later you met her here at the Library.'

'Still with The Dancing Master, remember.'

'Still with The Dancing Master, I admit, but why on the strength of that
should you imagine--'

'I imagine nothing. I have no imagination. I am only convinced that The
Dancing Master is attracted to The Dowd because he is objectionable
in every way and she in every other. If I know the man as you have
described him, he holds his wife in slavery at present.'

'She is twenty years younger than he.'

'Poor wretch! And, in the end, after he has posed and swaggered and lied
he has a mouth under that ragged moustache simply made for lies he will
be rewarded according to his merits.'

'I wonder what those really are,' said Mrs. Mallowe.

But Mrs. Hauksbee, her face close to the shelf of the new books, was
humming softly: 'What shall he have who killed the Deer?' She was a lady
of unfettered speech.

One month later she announced her intention of calling upon Mrs.
Delville. Both Mrs. Hauksbee and Mrs. Mallowe were in morning wrappers,
and there was a great peace in the