First, that this was only one of Larrie's aggravating fits of opposition, and when he got over it and knew what a name she had made for herself, he would be glad she had not taken him at his word. Second, that since her gift was so great, it would be wrong not to give the world the benefit of it, she remembered the scriptural napkin-wrapped talent. Third, that it would be sheer ingratitude after all Mr Wooster's trouble, to spoil his concert at the last minute. And fourth, that no one literally interpreted that word 'obey' in the marriage service, now that the equality of the sexes was recognised. It was merely a relic of darker ages when woman had been little more than a chattel; the progress of the century had made it elastic, before long it would be removed altogether. On Friday they had eggs for tea. At least, Peggie had put a stand on the table, with bread and butter, and other eatables, but they were both too agitated to do more than crack the tops, and take salt and pepper on the edge of their plates. This was to be the last chance. Peggie removed baby, and looked anxiously at the quiet young couple as she did so. She was afraid there was something really serious this time, so pale was her master's face, so brilliant Dot's eyes. 'Well?' Larrie said heavily. 'I'm going,' answered Dot. 'I've got my dress ready, and made all arrangements, it's too late to stop now.' Larrie swallowed some tea and went even whiter. This was the final wrecking of their lives. 'Dot, I _beg_ of you to think of it again,' he said. She slipped from her chair and went to his end of the table. 'Darling, let me go!' she said, 'see, I beg of you--you could give in and let me, and then it wouldn't be disobedience.' She put her arms round his neck, her flushed cheek against his, 'Dear old Larrie, do! I have set my heart on it so! do let me go happy, dearest, dearest!' If only at that minute she had said she would give it up, he could almost have let her go, greatly as he disliked the publicity for her, and the connection with Wooster. But he could not help mentally finishing her last sentence--'Or I shall have to go unhappy.' 'I can't,--you must see I can't,--how can I, Dot? it is impossible,' he said. But she clung tighter. 'Once you loved me too well to refuse me such a thing, my husband, don't let me think I am so little to you now.' He tried to put her away, but her arms held him. 'Darling, let me,' she begged, 'let me, let me,'--the tears were running down her cheeks. 'I will be so good afterwards, oh this is everything to me, Larrie,--Larrie, don't be cruel to me, I must, must go--oh, darling, let me, let me.' He was making a promise to himself to be kept faithfully, since he saw how very much this was to her. If she would give in now, say she would give in as a true wife should to her husband, he would let her go, he would even take her himself, for it would prove she did not put that man before him.