said Harris, "any
difference between one piano and another?"
"Some of them seem to be a bit louder than others," I answered; "but one
gets used to that."
"Ours is all wrong about the treble," said Harris. "By the way, what
_is_ the treble?"
"It's the shrill end of the thing," I explained; "the part that sounds as
if you'd trod on its tail. The brilliant selections always end up with a
flourish on it."
"They want more of it," said Harris; "our old one hasn't got enough of
it. I'll have to put it in the nursery, and get a new one for the
drawing-room."
"Anything else?" I asked.
"No," said Harris; "she didn't seem able to think of anything else."
"You'll find when you get home," I said, "she has thought of one other
thing."
"What's that?" said Harris.
"A house at Folkestone for the season."
"What should she want a house at Folkestone for?" said Harris.
"To live in," I suggested, "during the summer months."
"She's going to her people in Wales," said Harris, "for the holidays,
with the children; we've had an invitation."
"Possibly," I said, "she'll go to Wales before she goes to Folkestone, or
maybe she'll take Wales on her way home; but she'll want a house at
Folkestone for the season, notwithstanding. I may be mistaken--I hope
for your sake that I am--but I feel a presentiment that I'm not."
"This trip," said Harris, "is going to be expensive."
"It was an idiotic suggestion," I said, "from the beginning."
"It was foolish of us to listen to him," said Harris; "he'll get us into
real trouble one of these days."
"He always was a muddler," I agreed.
"So headstrong," added Harris.
We heard his voice at that moment in the hall, asking for letters.
"Better not say anything to him," I suggested; "it's too late to go back
now."
"There would be no advantage in doing so," replied Harris. "I should
have to get that bathroom and piano in any case now."
He came in looking very cheerful.
"Well," he said, "is it all right? Have you managed it?"
There was that about his tone I did not altogether like; I noticed Harris
resented it also.
"Managed what?" I said.
"Why, to get off," said George.
I felt the time was come to explain things to George.
"In married life," I said, "the man proposes, the woman submits. It is
her duty; all religion teaches it."
George folded his hands and fixed his eyes on the ceiling.
"We may chaff and joke a little about these things," I co
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