"I do. I go a step further, and say it's your duty. He is a bully, and probably no one has ever dared to show him how he appears to other people, but for the time being you are in command; while he is here, he is supposed to obey. Give it to him hot and strong! Tell him that he is injuring himself, and is a misery to every one else--that you are only keeping him, because it would do him harm to be removed." "It's true!" she cried. "It's every word true. The man is a miasma." She stared at me in sudden amaze. "Why do you laugh?" "Oh, I was just thinking! Thinking of a man whom I used to denounce as bad-tempered! A dear, kind, thoughtful, unselfish Englishman with a--a bluster! I can never call it temper again, after knowing Mr Travers! He has taught me a lesson." She laughed, too, and shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, that! I like a man with a will of his own, and the pluck to speak out. A `bluster,' as you call it, clears the air, and is quite a healthful influence; but this other!--Well, Miss Harding, you have given the casting vote. When are you coming again?" "Thursday afternoon, I think. Mrs Travers is busy then. Has to go out of town." "That's all right! Then I'll have it out with him before lunch, and leave you to calm him down in the afternoon." "Oh--_mean_!" I cried, but she only laughed, opened the door, and hustled me into the hall. Evidently her mind was made up. When Thursday afternoon arrived, it found Miss Harding entering the ogre's bedroom with a smile tightly glued on her lips, and a heart beating uncomfortably fast beneath her ugly flannel blouse. From the bed a pair of gimlet-like eyes surveyed her sharply, pale lips twisted, and showed a snarl of teeth. He volunteered no remark, however, and I wasted not a second in opening my book, and beginning to read as a refuge against conversation. I could feel the scrutiny of his eyes on my face, but I read on steadily, never looking up for nearly an hour, when the story came to an end. "Have you had enough reading for to-day, or would you care to hear one of the articles in this review?" He glared at me, and said coldly:-- "So you are in the conspiracy, too! Women are all alike! Sitting here, all smiles and flummery to my face, and then going away to abuse me behind my back!" "That's not true!" I cried hotly. "At least, it's a very unfair representation. There was no necessity for me to come here at all. I have done it because you were a neighbour, and ill, and I wanted to help you--and even more to help your wife. As for `smiles and flummery,' as you express it, there has been no chance of anything so friendly. You have allowed no chance!" "You don't deny, I suppose, that you joined with matron in abusing me as a monster of wickedness?"