"I don't know! I'd like to hear a little of both, I think, just to see
what sort of a case you could make out."
"Very well, then, so you shall, but first I'll make you comfy. Which is
the least lumpy chair which this beautiful room possesses? Sit down
then, and put up your feet while I enjoy my lunch. I do love damson
jam! I shall finish the pot before I'm satisfied... Well, to take the
worst things first, I do sympathise with you about the table linen! One
clean cloth a week, I suppose? It must be quite a chronicle of the
boys' exploits! I should live on cold meat, so that they couldn't spill
he gravy. And the spoons. They feel gritty, don't they? What is it
exactly that they are made of? Poor old, dainty Edie! I know you hate
it, and the idea that aliens are usurping your own treasures. Stupid
people like Agnes would say that these are only pin-pricks, which we
should not deign to notice, but sensible people like you and me know
that constant little pricks take more out of one than the big stabs. If
the wall-paper had not been so hideous, your anxieties would have seemed
lighter, but it's difficult to bear things cheerfully against a
background of drab roses. Here's an idea now! If all else fails, start
a cheerful lodging-house. You'd make a fortune, and be a philanthropist
to boot... This is good jam! I shall have to hide the stones, for
the sake of decency.--I know you think fifty times more of Jack than of
yourself. It's hard luck to feel that all his hard work ends in this,
and men hate failure. They have the responsibility, poor things, and it
must be tragic to feel that through their mistakes, or rashness, or
incapacity, as the case may be, they have brought hard times upon their
wives. I expect Jack feels the table cloth even more than you do! You
smart, but you don't feel, `This is my fault!'"
"It isn't Jack's fault," interrupted Jack's wife quickly. "He never
speculated, nor shirked work, nor did anything but his best. It was
that hateful war, and the upset of the market, and--"
"Call it misfortune, then; in any case the fact remains that he is the
bread-winner, and has failed to provide--cake! We are not satisfied
with dry bread nowadays. You are always sure of that from father, if
from no one else."
"But I loathe taking it! And I would sooner live in one room than go
home again, as some people do. When one marries one loses one's place
in the old home, and it is never given back. Father loves me, but he
would feel it a humiliation to have me back on his hands. Agnes would
resent my presence, and so would you. Yes, you would! Not consciously,
perhaps, but in a hundred side-issues. We should take up your spare
rooms, and prevent visitors, and upset the maids. If you ran into debt,
father would pay your debts as a matter of course, but he grudges paying
mine, because they are partly Jack's."