Hugh John agreed, and added that he had too. But he said that Sir Toady could not be expected to act, seeing that he had already "sucked up" to the maker of the strawberry shortcake, not to mention the maple-sugar toffee. He could therefore get as much as he wanted for himself without paying, owing to Mrs. Donnan's weakness! "And do you think that a young dev--imp like Sir Toady does not know when he is well off?" concluded Hugh John. "As for father, he has too much to do to bother his head about things like that--at least I shan't ask him; no, Sis, if anybody, it is you who ought to suggest to Butcher Donnan, or better, to Mrs. Donnan----" "But," said I, "he is a violent man, and would not listen to a word his wife says. You know that very well!" Hugh John considered, throwing his chin into the air with a gesture which, if he had not worn his hair of military shortness, would have cast it back elegantly and poetically. But he disdained such things. "Oh, yes," he said, "Donnan makes a lot of noise, I know. He pretends to authority, but--don't tell anybody--he has it not. _His wife can wear him down!_ She seems to submit. His authority at home is undisputed. So he tires of it, and finishes by letting her have her own way. That is the secret. Of course at the least word of objection it would be, 'What ho! my highest of high horses!' And crying aloud he would mount and ride. But Mrs. Donnan never gives him a chance. She knows better. And as he is really a good-hearted man--if he does bully, she just waits till he is sorry for it! It does not take long." Thus in the depths of the cave, his chin on his hands and his eye glued to the telescope, spake the Philosopher of Esk Water Side. I could not but admit that in the main he was right. Hugh John follows a truth with a certain slow, patient, tireless, sleuth-hound trot, which never puts him out of breath. But in the end he finishes by getting there. And now without ever moving he extorted from me the promise that, when I could (and as soon as I could) I should take in hand the task of restoring the married happiness of Mr. and Mrs. Donnan--retired from business, and fallen into the practice of idleness as a profession, and unhappiness as the wages thereof. IX THE NEW SHOP _Aged about Fifteen. The Cave, in July._ It wasn't a job I liked. Nor would almost anybody. Still people can't _say_ very much to a girl, and I had been at school and so had lost my--what shall I call it?--"sensitiveness."