Good servants: low prices. People knowing their duty."

"Did they, though?" said Laura Temple. "I think it must have been
perfectly horrid to be a maid-servant in those days. Only out one
night a week, and once on Sunday at most, and kept as close during the
rest of the time as if you were in a nunnery."

"They were happy, though," said Miss Ethel. "Happier, I think, than
these girls are now. Look at Ellen! Wasn't she the picture of
content?"

Then Mrs. Graham's high voice shrilled across the buzz of talk. "Mine
actually wears silk stockings on her evenings out--silk stockings!"

"What I say," boomed Mr. Graham soothingly, "best make up your minds to
let things go. You can't alter them. My wife here worked herself up
into such a state of nerves during the war that she had to take bromide
for months, and I'm not going to let that happen again. I don't allow
any discussion of national difficulties, either at home or abroad. We
read the head-lines in the newspaper so that we know what has actually
happened, and we leave other people's speculations about things alone.
Only way to go on living with any comfort."

Mrs. Graham looked across at her husband with affection, and murmured
aside to Laura Temple: "It is really on Arthur's account that we have
banned discussion on strikes and Ireland and so on. He gets
indigestion if he dwells on painful topics. So I just make things as
comfortable as I can in our own house, and let the world take care of
itself. A wife's first duty is to make her husband happy, as you will
find out before long, my dear."

Laura smiled back at Mrs. Graham, with the colour deepening a shade
under the soft brown eyes which exactly matched her voice.

"There's no idea of our being married yet, Mrs. Graham," she said.
"For one thing, our house will not be ready for some time." But behind
her quiet words she was saying to herself that never, never would she
and Godfrey emulate Mr. and Mrs. Graham's system of guarding the common
existence from anything found disturbing to comfort, with a tame good
conscience ready to call it conjugal devotion.

"I expected to see Mr. Wilson with you to-night," murmured Mrs. Graham:
then she leaned nearer to Laura and said in a still lower tone: "I
suppose he is in disgrace here for being the agent for the sale of that
field beyond the privet hedge?"

"Yes. They think he might somehow have avoided selling it because he
is a connection of theirs," re