“I have obeyed you for seven years. It is now the Eighth Year.” Herbert did not hear his wife’s remark. He was looking round the room with an air of extreme annoyance. “Well, I’m blowed!” he exclaimed. “What’s the matter, dear?” asked Mrs. Hey-wood anxiously. “You haven’t even taken the trouble to buy some flowers,” said Herbert. “I left that to Clare,” said the old lady. “Haven’t you done so, Clare?” “No,” said Clare. “I can’t bear flowers in this room. They droop so quickly.” Herbert was quite angry. “I insist upon having some flowers. The place looks like a barn without them. What will our visitors say?” “Stupid things, as usual,” said Clare quietly. “I must go out and get some myself, I suppose,” said Herbert, with the air of a martyr. “Can’t you send Mollie, dear?” asked Mrs. Heywood. “Mollie is cutting sandwiches. The girl is overwhelmed with work. And--Oh, my stars!” His mother was alarmed by this sudden cry of dismay. “Now what is the matter, dear?” “There’s no whisky in the decanter.” “No whisky?” “Clare,” said Herbert, appealing to his wife, “there’s not a drop of whisky left.” “Well, _I_ didn’t drink it,” said Clare. “You finished it the other night with one of your club friends.” “So we did. Dash it!” “Don’t be irritable, dear,” said Mrs. Heywood. “Irritable! Isn’t it enough to make a saint irritable? These things always happen on our At Home nights. Nobody seems to have any forethought. Every blessed thing seems to go wrong.” “That is why I wish one could abolish the institution,” said Clare. “What institution?” “At Homes.” “Don’t talk rubbish, Clare,” said Herbert angrily; “you know I have them for _your_ sake.” Clare laughed bitterly, as though she had heard a rather painful joke. “For my sake! Oh, that is good!” Herbert was distracted by a new cause of grievance as a tremendous puff of smoke came out of the fire-grate. “What in the name of a thousand devils----” “It’s that awful fire again!” cried Mrs. Hey-wood. “These flats seem to have no chimneys.” “It’s nothing to do with the flat,” said Herbert. “It’s that fool Mollie. The girl doesn’t know how to light a decent fire!” He rang the bell furiously, keeping his finger on the electric knob. “The creature has absolutely nothing to do, and what she does she spoils.” Mollie came in with a look of mutiny on her face. “Look at that fire,” said Herbert fiercely. “I am looking at it,” said Mollie. “Why don’t you do your work properly? See to the beastly thing, can’t you?” Mollie folded her arms and spoke firmly. “If you please, sir, wild horses won’t make me touch it again.” “It’s not a question of horse-power,” said Herbert. “Go and get an old newspaper and hold it in front of the bars.” “I am just in the middle of the sandwiches,” said Mollie. “Well, get out of them, then,” said Herbert. Mollie delivered her usual ultimatum. “If you please, sir, I beg to give a month’s notice.” “Bosh!” said Herbert.