ever forbidden in these days."

"Yes, they are," I said. "A bann was forbidden last week. A father of
eighty years, infuriated by the imminent desertion of a daughter of
fifty-five, got up in church at the third time of asking and said, 'I
object. Who's going to look after me?' The clergyman nearly swooned."

"And the unfortunate objecter was carefully removed by his friends. I
don't see that that's much of a help to you."

"Anyhow," I said, "I won't have it."

"It's too late to talk like that. In half-an-hour I start for Sandy Bay
to stay with Violet. My luggage is already at the station."

"Yes," I said, "and you leave me here alone to look after everything."

"Well, what of that?" she said. "Don't you often leave _me_ alone here
to look after everything?"

"Ah, but that's different. When I go away _rien n'est change; il n'y a
qu'un Anglais de moins_."

"My own Parisian one!" she murmured.

"The mistress-mind remains and things go on being controlled. Lord love
you, _my_ absence makes no difference."

"What you mean is," she said, "that you simply can't get on without me.
Isn't that it?"

"If you put it in that way," I said, "you can't expect me to admit it."

"Well, it comes to that, doesn't it?"

"What I mean to say is that it's your fault."

"Aha," she said triumphantly, "I knew you'd mean to say that sooner or
later. Everything's my fault, of course."

"It is," I said, "an arguable proposition."

"And how do you prove it in this particular case?"

"Easily," I said. "You have neglected to train me for the daily work of
a household and a family."

"You never asked to be trained," she said.

"No," I said, "I was too proud and too sensitive. I did not come to you
and say, 'Let me beard the cook in her fastness. Let me order the
sirloin of beef for the mid-day meal. Let me rebuke the housemaid, or
raise her wages, or give her notice,' or whatever it is that one does in
the case of a housemaid. I did not ask that I too might be allowed to
talk bulbs or Alpine plants to the gardener. I did not plead that I
might order dresses or medicine for the girls, or watch over John's
putting to bed. All these things, because you were haughty about them, I
left to you; and you--what did you do?"

"I generally went and did them."

"And that," I said, "is just what I complain of."

"You wouldn't have liked it," she said, "if I hadn't."

"You ought," I said, "to have taken me into your counsels, instead of