t willingly assented
to the choice. He considered that a cut-glass double inkstand was a
vicious concession to Mrs Hamps's very vulgar taste in knick-knacks,
and, moreover, he always now discouraged retail trade at the shop. But
still, he had assented, out of indolence.

"Well, it won't come till to-morrow," he said.

"But, Edwin, how's that?"

"How's that? Well, if you want to know, I didn't order it till
yesterday. I can't think of everything."

"It's very annoying!" said Maggie sincerely.

Edwin put on the martyr's crown. "Some people seem to think I've
nothing else to do down at my shop but order birthday presents," he
remarked with disagreeable sarcasm.

"I think you might be a little more polite," said Maggie.

"Do you!"

"Yes; I do!" Maggie insisted stoutly. "Sometimes you get positively
unbearable. Everybody notices it."

"Who's everybody?"

"You never mind!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------

TWO.

Maggie tossed her head, and Edwin knew that when she tossed her head--a
gesture rare with her--she was tossing the tears back from her eyes. He
was more than startled, he was intimidated, by that feminine movement of
the head. She was hurt. It was absurd of her to be so susceptible, but
he had undoubtedly hurt her. He had been clumsy enough to hurt her.
She was nearing forty, and he also was close behind her on the road to
forty; she was a perfectly decent sort, and he reckoned that he, too,
was a perfectly decent sort, and yet they lacked the skill not to
bicker. They no longer had the somewhat noisy altercations of old days
concerning real or fancied interferences with the order and privacy of
Edwin's sacred chamber, but their general demeanour to one another had
dully soured. It was as if they tolerated one another, from motives of
self-interest. Why should this be so? They were, at bottom,
affectionate and mutually respectful. In a crisis they could and would
rely on one another utterly. Why should their demeanour be so false an
index to their real feelings? He supposed it was just the fault of
loose habit. He did not blame her. From mere pride he blamed himself.
He knew himself to be cleverer, more perceptive, wilier, than she; and
he ought to have been able to muster the diplomatic skill necessary for
smooth and felicitous intercourse. Any friction, whether due to her
stupidity or not, was a proof of his incompetence in the art of li