_that_," broke in the flapper. "Haven't we?"

"We've settled all that," said Bean, grateful for the solid feel of a
cup in his fingers.

"Don't be too domineering, that's all," warned the Demon. "She wouldn't
put up with it."

"I understand all _that_," insisted Bean, resolutely seizing a fork for
which he had no use. "I can look ahead!"

He began hurriedly to eat toast, hoping it would seem that he had more
to say but was too hungry to say it.

"I know _you_," persisted the Demon. "Brow-beating, bound to have your
own way, and, after all, she's nothing but a child."

"I'll _want_ him to have his own way," declared the child. "I'll see
that he just perfectly gets it, too!"

"Give and take, that's my motto," he muttered, wondering if more toast
would choke him.

"Be a row back there, of course," said Grandma, "but Julia's going to
marry off the other child after her own heart, and it's only right for
me to have a little say about this one. You're a better man than he is.
You have a good situation and he's just a waster; couldn't buy his own
cigarettes if he had to work for the money, say nothing of his gloves
and ties. Born to riches, born to folly, say I. Still, Julia will fuss
just about so much. Of course, Jim--"

"Oh, poor old Pops!" The flapper gracefully destroyed him as a factor in
the problem.

Bean was feeding toast to Nap, who didn't choke.

"She always has to come around though when the girl makes up her mind. I
haven't had that child in my charge for nothing."

"I have a right to choose the--" The flapper broke her speech with tea.
"I have the _right_," she concluded defiantly.

Bean shuddered. He recalled the terrific remainder of that speech.

"I thought we better have this little talk," said Grandma, "and get
everything understood."

"'S the only way to do," said Bean, wrinkling his forehead, "have
everything clear."

"I had it all perfectly planned out long ago," said the flapper. "I
don't _want_ a large place."

"Lots of trouble," conceded Bean. "Something always coming up," he added
knowingly.

"Nice yard," said the flapper, "plenty of room for flowers and the
tennis court, and I'll do the marketing when I motor in for you. They
won't let me do it back there," she concluded with some acrimony; "and
they get good and cheated and I'm perfectly glad of it. Eighteen cents a
head for lettuce! I saw that very thing on a tag yesterday!"

"Rob you right and left," mumbled Bean. "All you