I rose, and began to walk up and down, mentally cursing my guest. In return for bread, he had made me uncomfortable. It was quite a ticklish position in which I found myself. The question must be discussed with Letitia, and--Quixotic, or some other "otic," though it may sound--the notion of such a discussion was most distasteful to me. Aunt Julia would have called me an idiot; perhaps I _was_ an idiot; still, because a pretty girl happens to be a man's wife, it does seem distressing that he should moot topics with her, that, if she were somebody else's wife, would remain unmooted. Tamworth said no more on the subject; he evidently considered that he had done his duty, and had no further mission to fulfil. When we joined Letitia in the drawing-room, Tamworth and my wife monopolized the conversation. I could not take part in it; I felt too oppressed by the sudden apparition of the serpent that had appeared in our Eden. Letitia tried to include me in the small-talk, but she did not succeed. I sat, plunged in thought, dreading to think of Tamworth's departure, when I felt that I should be forced to disconcert Letitia. And she had been so happy for a few weeks, poor girl! Possibly, Tamworth was what they call an "alarmist." I could guarantee him no more dinners in my house. At last he went, and we were alone. I made up my mind, while he was putting on his bonnet and shawl outside, that I would defer my discussion with Letitia until the morning. It would come better at the boiled-egg moment, when we were quite calm and dispassionate. Moreover, I could brood over it all night, and wisdom might come to me in that way. "How quiet you were, Archie," said Letitia, "and what a time you and Mr. Tamworth were over your cigars! What _were_ you talking about?" I made a bold stroke. "Tamworth," I replied in solemn, funereal tones, "was talking about Olga." "The dinner certainly was excellent," said Letitia proudly, "and I'm glad we invited him. So he talked about Olga? I noticed, Archie, that he was staring at her, in really a rude way, while we were dining. I couldn't help thinking that perhaps Mr. Tamworth is a--flirt!" What a tonic a laugh is! Letitia's little suggestion appealed to me as so inordinately funny--despite my absence of a sense of humor--that I fell back in my chair, convulsed. I laughed until the tears rolled down my cheeks. I had not made so merry since the visit of Miss Priscilla Perfoozle. I couldn't help picturing Tamworth's face, on learning that my wife had suggested the idea of his flirting with the winsome Miss Allallami. It did me good. I felt better immediately. The sinister aspect of things seemed less alarming.