aker."

"Mis' Hornblower's knee trouble her much?"

"Well, no, not to say trouble." Mr. Hornblower plucked his beard with
his disengaged hand and cast a thoughtful glance at his companion.
"She's a little oneasy in her mind though, Mis' Hornblower is. She's
got an idea in her head and it keeps her as oneasy as a flea. If she
should open up to you, maybe you'd see your way to say something kind
of quieting."

"But what's she got to worry about?"

"That's what I say," said Mr. Hornblower, gesturing with his whip.
"We're comf'table and prosperous, ain't we? Maybe there's a way to get
more. I don't say there ain't. But what's the use of more, when
you've got enough? The house suits me just as 'tis, and my victuals
suit me, and my friends that I've summered and wintered with, forty
years and over, they suit me, too. What do I want of a villa, or of
trips to Europe, where the folks talk all kinds of heathenish gibberish
instead of good United States!"

"But I don't see how--"

"Maybe she'll open up to you," repeated Mr. Hornblower, lowering his
voice though such a precaution was obviously unnecessary. "Mind I
don't say it ain't a pretty scheme. Anyhow, it looks good on paper.
But with me the point's just here--enough's enough."

Persis found Mrs. Hornblower more communicative than her spouse. As
all roads lead to Rome, so, with Mrs. Hornblower, all topics of
conversation led directly to the subject uppermost in her thoughts.
The inevitable discussion of the prevailing modes led by a short path
to Persis' full enlightenment.

"I want it fixed real tasty, Persis, for all it's not a new dress.
I've had it going on four years, but I've been sparing of it and
careful, so it's not like a dress you wear for getting supper and for
trailing round in the yard after the dew falls. Robert's always been
fond of this dress. I s'pose I'm kind of foolish to humor him so, but
I'm always careful about consulting his tastes. Seems as if a wife had
ought to be satisfied if she dresses in a way that pleases her husband."

"Sometimes I've thought," replied Persis, as she turned the pages of
her latest fashion magazine, "that when it comes to women's clothes,
men don't know what they do like. If a man goes with his wife to buy a
hat, nine times out of ten, he'll pick out the worst-looking thing in
the shop, and then he'll wonder why she's falling off in her looks.
Now, Mis' Hornblower, what do you think of this pannier sty