n by
the fire.

"But I do care--extremely." she averred. "It isn't my little inside
which cares. It's a purely external feeling which likes to have
everything just right. If it's going to be a dinner, I want it perfect
from soup to savoury."

Penelope regarded her with a glint of amusement.

"You're such a demanding person."

"I know I am--about the way things are done. What pleasure is there in
anything which offends your sense of fitness?"

"You bestow far too much importance on the outside of the cup and
platter."

Nan shook her head.

"_Mon verre n'est pas grand, mais--Je bois dans mon verre._" she quoted,
frivolously obstinate.

"Bah!" Penelope grunted, "The critical faculty is over-developed in you,
my child."

"Not a bit! Would you like to drink champagne out of a kitchen tea-cup?
Of course not. I merely apply the same principle to other things. For
instance, if the man I married ate peas with a knife and made loud juicy
noises when he drank his soup, not all the sterling qualities he might
possess would compensate. Whereas if he had perfect manners, I believe I
could forgive him half the sins in the Decalogue."

"Manners are merely an external," protested Penelope, although privately
she acknowledged to a sneaking agreement with Nan's point of view.

"Well," retorted Nan. "We've got to live with externals, haven't we?
It's only on rare occasions that people admit each other on to their
souls' doorsteps. Besides"--argumentatively--"decent manners _aren't_ an
external. They're the 'outward and visible sign.' Why"--waxing
enthusiastic--"if a man just opens a door or puts some coal on the fire
for you, it involves a whole history of the homage and protective
instinct of man for woman."

"The theory may be correct," admitted Penelope, "though a trifle
idealistic for the twentieth century. Most men," she added drily,
"Regard coaling up the fire as a damned nuisance rather than a 'history
of homage.'"

"It oughtn't to be idealistic." There was a faint note of wistfulness in
Nan's voice. "Why should everything that is beautiful be invariably
termed 'idealistic'? Oh, there are ten thousand things I'd like altered
in this world of ours!"

"Of course there are. You wouldn't be you otherwise! You want a
specially constructed world and a peculiarly adapted human nature. In
fact--you want the moon!"

Nan stared into the fire reflectively.

"I wonder," she said slowly, "if I shall get