time. He makes me
simply furious sometimes. Do you know, I think if I were a dog I should
often bite Christopher? He makes me angry in a biting kind of way."

Alan smiled faintly at this; jokes at Christopher's expense were
naturally more humorous than jokes at his own. "And what other sorts of
people make you angry?" he asked.

"I'm afraid the people who make me angriest of all are the people who
won't do what I tell them. They really madden me." And Elisabeth began
to laugh. "I've got a horribly strong will, you see, and if people go
against it, I want them to be sent to the dentist's every morning, and
to the photographer's every afternoon, for the rest of their lives. Now
Christopher is one of the worst of those; I can't make him do what I
want just because I want it; he always wishes to know why I want it,
and that is so silly and tiresome of him, because nine times out of ten
I don't know myself."

"Very trying!"

"Christopher certainly has the knack of making me angrier than anybody
else I ever met," said Elisabeth thoughtfully. "I wonder why it is? I
suppose it must be because I have known him for so long. I can't see any
other reason. I am generally such an easy-going, good-tempered girl; but
when Christopher begins to argue and dictate and contradict, the Furies
simply aren't in it with me."

"The excellent Thornley certainly has his limitations."

Elisabeth's eyes flashed. She did not mind finding fault with
Christopher herself; in fact, she found such fault-finding absolutely
necessary to her well-being; but she resented any attempt on the part of
another to usurp this, her peculiar prerogative. "He is very good, all
the same," she said, "and extremely clever; and he is my greatest
friend."

But Alan was bored by Christopher as a subject of conversation, so he
changed him for Elisabeth's self. "How loyal you are!" he exclaimed with
admiration; "it is indeed a patent of nobility to be counted among your
friends."

The girl, having just been guilty of disloyalty, was naturally delighted
at this compliment. "You always understand and appreciate me," she said
gratefully, unconscious of the fact that it was Alan's lack of
understanding and appreciation which had aroused her gratitude just
then. Perfect comprehension--untempered by perfect love--would be a
terrible thing; mercifully for us poor mortals it does not exist.

Alan went on: "Because I possess this patent of nobility, I am going to
presume u