you go there?" asked Minora.

"Ah, when did I go there indeed? When did I not go there? I have been
calling there all my life."

Minora's eyes rolled doubtfully first at me then at Irais from the
depths of her head-wrappings; they are large eyes with long dark
eyelashes, and far be it from me to deny that each eye taken by itself
is fine, but they are put in all wrong.

"The only thing you would learn there," went on Irais, "would be
the significance of sofa corners in Germany. If we three went there
together, I should be ushered into the right-hand corner of the sofa,
because it is the place of honour, and I am the greatest stranger;
Elizabeth would be invited to seat herself in the left-hand corner, as
next in importance; the hostess would sit near us in an arm-chair; and
you, as a person of no importance whatever, would either be left to
sit where you could, or would be put on a chair facing us, and with the
entire breadth of the table between us to mark the immense social
gulf that separates the married woman from the mere virgin. These sofa
corners make the drawing of nice distinctions possible in a way that
nothing else could. The world might come to an end, and create less
sensation in doing it, than you would, Miss Minora, if by any chance you
got into the right-hand corner of one. That you are put on a chair
on the other side of the table places you at once in the scale of
precedence, and exactly defines your social position, or rather your
complete want of a social position." And Irais tilted her nose ever so
little heavenwards.

"Note it," she added, "as the heading of your next chapter."

"Note what?" asked Minora impatiently.

"Why,'The Subtle Significance of Sofas', of course," replied Irais.
"If," she continued, as Minora made no reply appreciative of this
suggestion, "you were to call unexpectedly, the bad luck which pursues
the innocent would most likely make you hit on a washing-day, and the
distracted mistress of the house would keep you waiting in the cold room
so long while she changed her dress, that you would begin to fear you
were to be left to perish from want and hunger; and when she did appear,
would show by the bitterness of her welcoming smile the rage that was
boiling in her heart."

"But what has the mistress of the house to do with washing?"

"What has she to do with washing? Oh, you sweet innocent--pardon my
familiarity, but such ignorance of country-life customs is very touchin