"Francesca," I said, "it's no use struggling, and you know it. We've got to have Aunt Matilda, and there's an end of it." "There isn't an end of it at all. It's only just beginning, and it'll go on getting worse and worse." "You do not seem to realise," I said, "what the possession of an aunt like Aunt Matilda means. She is like all the aunts you've ever read about in novels, only more so. She's so true to type that you can hardly believe in her existence. To be related to her is to have a Stake in the Country and to be part of the British Constitution, which she ardently believes in without knowing anything about it. She's been a widow for fifteen years, and--" "Poor old thing," said Francesca, "so she has." "--for fifteen solitary years she has battled against the world, and managed her business affairs extraordinarily well; and yet she believes that women are perfect fools, and pities them from the bottom of her heart for being women." "As far as I'm concerned," said Francesca, "she may pity all the other women if she'll only not pity me. If I have a headache she not only pities me, but despises me as a weakling utterly unfitted to manage a household. No, my dear, I can't face it. Your Aunt Matilda's too much for me." "I admit," I said, "that she's a good deal." "And of course she'll bring her maid." "And her pug." "Whose name is 'MacLachlan,' and you mustn't call him 'Mac' because it's disrespectful." "And the children won't be allowed to shout about the house when she takes her nap. And of course they _will_ shout about the house, and then there'll be trouble.". "And the children will be compared with other children who are much better behaved." "It's a queer thing, but the children don't seem to mind her." "She bribes them with chocolates." "Well, she won't do it any more, because there are no chocolates in the world. Chocolates are a luxury." "So's your aunt," said Francesca. "She's the biggest luxury I ever heard of. She's rare--I might almost say unique. She's expensive, and she can be done without. Obviously she's forbidden by the Defence of the Realm Act. We shall be fined and imprisoned if we conceal her here." "Well, you'd better sit down and tell her so, and get it off your chest." "I suppose I must play the humbug." "Yes, do. She'll see through you all right, though." "Oh, I say," said Francesca, "there's a P.S. to her letter. She says she's saved two pounds out of her sugar ration, and she's sending it to us as a Christmas present. Isn't she an old topper?" "Yes," I said, "I forgive her everything. Is two pounds a lot?" "It's generally supposed to be just two pounds," said Francesca. R.C.L. * * * * * THE VENGEANCE.