"There's a dear boy," said Ethelbertha; "try hard. You might get George to join you." I replied there was not much advantage in George's coming, seeing he was a bachelor, and that therefore nobody would be much benefited by his absence. But a woman never understands satire. Ethelbertha merely remarked it would look unkind leaving him behind. I promised to put it to him. I met Harris at the Club in the afternoon, and asked him how he had got on. He said, "Oh, that's all right; there's no difficulty about getting away." But there was that about his tone that suggested incomplete satisfaction, so I pressed him for further details. "She was as sweet as milk about it," he continued; "said it was an excellent idea of George's, and that she thought it would do me good." "That seems all right," I said; "what's wrong about that?" "There's nothing wrong about that," he answered, "but that wasn't all. She went on to talk of other things." "I understand," I said. "There's that bathroom fad of hers," he continued. "I've heard of it," I said; "she has started Ethelbertha on the same idea." "Well, I've had to agree to that being put in hand at once; I couldn't argue any more when she was so nice about the other thing. That will cost me a hundred pounds, at the very least." "As much as that?" I asked. "Every penny of it," said Harris; "the estimate alone is sixty." I was sorry to hear him say this. "Then there's the kitchen stove," continued Harris; "everything that has gone wrong in the house for the last two years has been the fault of that kitchen stove." "I know," I said. "We have been in seven houses since we were married, and every kitchen stove has been worse than the last. Our present one is not only incompetent; it is spiteful. It knows when we are giving a party, and goes out of its way to do its worst." "_We_ are going to have a new one," said Harris, but he did not say it proudly. "Clara thought it would be such a saving of expense, having the two things done at the same time. I believe," said Harris, "if a woman wanted a diamond tiara, she would explain that it was to save the expense of a bonnet." "How much do you reckon the stove is going to cost you?" I asked. I felt interested in the subject. "I don't know," answered Harris; "another twenty, I suppose. Then we talked about the piano. Could you ever notice," said Harris, "any difference between one piano and another?" "Some of them seem to be a bit louder than others," I answered; "but one gets used to that." "Ours is all wrong about the treble," said Harris. "By the way, what _is_ the treble?" "It's the shrill end of the thing," I explained; "the part that sounds as if you'd trod on its tail. The brilliant selections always end up with a flourish on it." "They want more of it," said Harris; "our old one hasn't got enough of it. I'll have to put it in the nursery, and get a new one for the drawing-room." "Anything else?" I asked.