every point correct; and
then what had happened? He'd bought her and she'd developed a spirit
like wet cotton wool, no pace, no staying power. She'd sweat and stumble
after a few minutes run, no amount of dieting, humoring or whipping
affected her. She'd set out to shirk, and shirk she did--till he worked
her off on a damned fool Dolores had fortunately introduced him to--only
wives can't be handed on like mares--"Devil's the pity"--Sir Peter said
to himself, as he fell off to sleep. "Works perfectly with horses."

Winn came up-stairs soon after breakfast a little set and silent, to say
good-by to his father. Sir Peter had thrown his breakfast out of the
window and congealed the Plymouth Brother's morning prayers. He wanted
to get hold of something tangible to move circumstances and cheat fate,
but he couldn't think what you did do, when it wasn't a question of
storms or guns--or a man you could knock down for insubordination,
simply a physical fact.

He scowled gloomily at his son's approach. "I wish you weren't such a
damned fool," he observed by way of greeting. "Why can't you shake a
little sense into your wife? What's marriage for? I've been talking to
your mother about it. I don't say she isn't a confoundedly aggravating
woman, your mother! But she's always stuck to me, hasn't let me down,
you know. A wife ain't meant to do that. It's unnatural! Why can't you
say to her, 'You come with me or I'll damned well show you the reason
why--' That's the line to take!"

"A woman you've got to say that to isn't going to make much of a
companion," Winn said quietly. "I'd rather she stayed where she liked."

Sir Peter was silent for a moment, then he said, "Any more children
coming?"

"No," said his son, "nor likely to be either, as far as I'm concerned."

"There you are!" said Sir Peter. "Finicky and immoral, that's what I
call it! That's the way trouble begins, the more children the less
nonsense. Why don't you have more children instead of sitting sneering
at me like an Egyptian Pyramid?"

"That's my look-out," said Winn with aggravating composure. "When I want
'em, I'll have 'em. Don't you worry, Father."

"That's all devilish well!" said Sir Peter crossly. "But I _shall_
worry! Do I know more about the world or do you? Not that I want to
quarrel with you, my dear boy," he added hastily. "I admit things are
awkward for you--damned awkward--still it's no use sitting down under
them when you might have a row and cl