“'For the first and last time,' says she, 'let you and me understand one another. I've been eleven years without a husband, and I've got used to it. I don't feel now as I want one of any kind, and if I did it wouldn't be your sort. Eleven years ago I wasn't good enough for you, and now you're not good enough for me.' “'I want to reform,' says he. “'I want to see you do it,' says she. “'Give me a chance,' says he. “'I'm going to,' says she; 'but it's going to be my experiment this time, not yours. Eleven years ago I didn't give you satisfaction, so you turned me out of doors.' “'You went, Susan,' says he; 'you know it was your own idea.' “'Don't you remind me too much of the circumstances,' replies she, turning on him with a look in her eyes that was probably new to him, 'I went because there wasn't room for two of us; you know that. The other kind suited you better. Now I'm going to see whether you suit me,' and she sits herself again in her landlady's chair. “'In what way?' says he. “'In the way of earning your living,' says she, 'and starting on the road to becoming a decent member of society.' “He stood for a while cogitating. “'Don't you think,' says he at last, 'as I could manage this hotel for you?' “'Thanks,' says she; 'I'm doing that myself.' “'What about looking to the financial side of things,' says he, 'and keeping the accounts? It's hardly your work.' “'Nor yours either,' answers she drily, 'judging by the way you've been keeping your own.' “'You wouldn't like me to be head-waiter, I suppose?' says he. 'It would be a bit of a come-down.' “'You're thinking of the hotel, I suppose,' says she. 'Perhaps you are right. My customers are mostly an old-fashioned class; it's probable enough they might not like you. You had better suggest something else.' “'I could hardly be an under-waiter,' says he. “'Perhaps not,' says she; 'your manners strike me as a bit too familiar for that.' “Then he thought he'd try sarcasm. “'Perhaps you'd fancy my being the boots,' says he. “'That's more reasonable,' says she. 'You couldn't do much harm there, and I could keep an eye on you.' “'You really mean that?' says he, starting to put on his dignity. “But she cut him short by ringing the bell. “'If you think you can do better for yourself,' she says, 'there's an end of it. By a curious coincidence the place is just now vacant. I'll keep it open for you till to-morrow night; you can turn it over in your mind.' And one of the page boys coming in she just says 'Good-morning,' and the interview was at an end.