"The house is full of inconveniences," she said. "You have been a long time finding them out, Maria." "I found them out years ago, but I have borne with them for your sake." I laughed slyly, took the top off an egg, and requested her to name the inconveniences of which she complained. She commenced. "We want a spare room." "We have one," I said, "and it is never used." "It isn't fit to use." "Oh! I had an idea that there was no demand for it." "If it was a comfortable room there would be, Edward, I wish you would recognize that things cannot always remain as they are." "More's the pity." "Nonsense. You talk as if we were shellfish." "It did not occur to me. Proceed with your wants, Maria." "_Our_ wants, my dear." "Well, _our_ wants." "You want a nice, cozy study, where you can sit and smoke." "I want nothing of the kind. I can sit and smoke anywhere. Don't forget that I am fifty years of age, and that my habits are fixed." "My dear, it is never too late to learn." "Keep to the point," I said. "As if I am not keeping to it! I have no morning room." "So you are to sit in your morning room, and I am to sit in my study, instead of sitting and chatting together, as we have always done. A cheerful prospect! What next?" "We have very good servants," she said pensively. "Has that anything to do with the inconveniences you speak of?" "I shouldn't like to lose the girls, especially cook. They sleep in the attic, you know, and the roof is shockingly out of repair." "It is the chronic condition of roofs. Go where you will, you hear the same story. Have the girls complained?" "No, but I can see what is coming." "Ah!" "The kitchen is not what it should be; the range causes us the greatest anxiety. The next dinner party we give we must have the dinner cooked out. Think what a trouble it will be, and how awkward it will look. Everything brought to the table lukewarm, if not quite cold." "The thought is heartrending." "And you so particular as you are. I am not blaming you for these things, my dear." "You are very considerate. Is your catalogue of ills finished?" "By no means. Look at the wine cellar--it positively reeks. As for the store cupboard, not a thing can I keep in it for the damp. Then there's the bath. Every time I turn the hot water tap I am frightened out of my life. It splutters, and chokes, and gurgles--we shall have an explosion one day. Then there's----" "No more!" I cried, in a tragic tone. "Give me two minutes to compose myself. My nerves are shattered." I finished my eggs and toast, I emptied my breakfast cup, I shifted my chair. "You wish to move," I then said. "Do you not see the impossibility of our remaining where we are?" was her reply. "Frankly, I do not, but we will not argue; I bend my head to the storm." "Edward, Edward!" she expostulated. "Must not a woman have a mind? Must it always be the man?" "I meant nothing ill-natured, Maria. Have you any particular house in view?"