"I mean, violently. But she's too heavy to carry, I fancy--and I'll bet she's got the vigour of little old Diana herself. No--you couldn't do the Sabine act with her--only a club and the cave-man's gentle persuasion would help either of you.... Well--well, if they see her at breakfast it may help some. You know a woman makes or breaks herself at breakfast. That's why the majority of woman take it abed. I'm serious, Louis; no man can stand 'em--the majority." Once more he started away, hesitated, came back. "Who's this Countess that Sam is so crazy about?" "A sweet little woman, well-bred, and very genuine and sincere." "Never heard of her in Dartford," muttered the doctor. Neville laughed grimly: "Billy, Tenth Street and lower Fifth Avenue and Greenwich Village and Chelsea and Stuyvesant Square--and Syringa Avenue, Dartford, are all about alike. Bird Centre is just as stupid as Manhattan; and there never was and never will be a republic and a democracy in any country on the face of this snob-cursed globe." The doctor, very red, stared at him. "By jinks!" he said, "I guess I'm one after all. Now, who in hell would suspect that!--after all the advice I've given you!" "It was another fellow's family, that's all," said Neville wearily. "Theories work or they don't; only few care to try them on themselves or their own families--particularly when they devoutly believe in them." "Gad! That's a stinger! You've got me going all right," said the doctor, wincing, "and you're perfectly correct. Here I've been practically counselling you to marry where your inclination led you, and let the rest go to blazes; and when it's a question of Sam doing something similar, I retire hastily across the river and establish a residence in Missouri. What a rotten, custom-ridden bunch of snippy-snappy-snobbery we are after all!... All the same--who _is_ the Countess?" Neville didn't know much about her. "Sam's such an ass," said his brother, "and it isn't all snobbery on my part." "The safest thing to do," said Neville bitterly, "is to let a man in love alone." "Right. Foolish--damned foolish--but right! There is no greater ass than a wise one. Those who don't know anything at all are the better asses--and the happier." And he went away down the stairs, muttering and gesticulating. Mrs. Neville came to the door as he opened it to go out. They talked in low voices for a few moments, then the doctor went out and Mrs. Neville called to Stephanie. The girl came from the lighted drawing-room, and, together, the two women ascended the stairs. Stephanie smiled and nodded to Neville, then continued on along the hall; but his mother stopped to speak to him. "Go and sit with your father a little while," she said. "And don't be impatient with him, dear. He is an old man--a product of a different age and a simpler civilisation--perhaps a narrower one. Be patient and gentle with him. He really is fond of you and proud of you."