ou to explain it in the simplest way, of course,
If ever you hear of a marriage, the first thing you ask yourself is:
What has he or she to gain by it? Natural enough--in you. Now do you
really suppose that all marriages come about in the way that _yours_
did--on your side, I mean?'

Clem was far too dull-witted to be capable of quick retort. She merely
replied:

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Of course not. But let me assure you that people sometimes think of
other things besides making profit when they get married. It's a pity
that you always show yourself so coarse-minded.'

Joseph was quite serious in administering this rebuke. He really felt
himself justified in holding the tone of moral superiority. The same
phenomenon has often been remarked in persons conscious that their
affairs are prospering, and whose temptations to paltry meanness are on
that account less frequent.

'And what about yourself?' asked his wife, having found her retort at
length. 'Why did you want to marry _me_, I'd like to know?'

'Why? You are getting too modest. How could I live in the same house
with such a good-looking and sweet-tempered and well-behaved--'

'Oh, shut up!' she exclaimed, in a voice such as one hears at the
street-corner. 'It was just because you thought we was goin' to be
fools enough to keep you in idleness. Who was the fool, after all?'

Joseph smiled, and returned to his newspaper. In satisfaction at having
reduced him to silence, Clem laughed aloud and clattered with the knife
on her plate. As she was doing so there came a knock at the door.

'A gentleman wants to know if you're in, sir,' said the house-thrall,
showing a smeary face. 'Mr. Byass is the name.'

'Mr. Byass? I'll go down and see him.'

Clem's face became alive with suspicion. In spite of her careless
attire she intercepted Joseph, and bade the servant ask Mr. Byass to
come upstairs. 'How can you go down without a collar?' she said to her
husband.

He understood, and was somewhat uneasy, but made no resistance. Mr.
Byass presented himself. He had a very long face, and obviously brought
news of grave import. Joseph shook hands with him.

'You don't know my wife, I think. Mr. Byass, Clem. Nothing wrong, I
hope?'

Samuel, having made his best City bow, swung back from his toes to his
heels, and stood looking down into his hat. 'I'm sorry to say,' he
began, with extreme gravity, 'that Mr. Snowdon is rather ill--in fact,
very ill.