ps,
dear, she has some interesting internal disease, or a maggoty brain.
Don't you think, Archie, that the Ibsen inheritances are always most
fascinating? A bit morbid, but surely fascinating."

"I prefer a healthy cook, Letitia," I said meditatively, "somebody
willing to interest herself in our inheritance, rather than in her own."

"I don't mind what you say now," she pouted, "I am not to be put down by
clamor. We really have a cook at last, and I feel more lenient toward
you, Archie. Of course I was only joking when I suggested the Ibsen
diseases. Gerda Lyberg may have inherited from her ancestors something
quite nice and attractive."

"Then you mustn't look upon her as Ibsen, Letitia," I protested. "The
Ibsen people never inherit nice things. Their ancestors always bequeath
nasty ones. That is where their consistency comes in. They are
receptacles for horrors. Personally, if you'll excuse my flippancy, I
prefer Norwegian anchovies to Norwegian heroines. It is a mere matter of
opinion."

"I'm ashamed of you," retorted Letitia defiantly. "You talk like some of
the wretchedly frivolous criticisms, so called, that men like Acton
Davies and Alan Dale inflict upon the long-suffering public. They never
amuse me. Ibsen may make his heroines the recipients of ugly legacies,
but he has never yet cursed them with the odious incubus known as 'a
sense of humor.' The people with a sense of humor have something in
their brains worse than maggots. We'll drop the subject, Archie. I'm
going to learn Swedish. Before Gerda Lyberg has been with us a month I
intend to be able to talk fluently. It will be most useful. Next time we
go to Europe we'll take in Sweden, and I'll do the piloting. I am going
to buy some Swedish books, and study. Won't it be jolly? And just think
how melancholy we were this morning, you and I, looking out of that
window, and trying to materialize cooks. Wasn't it funny, Archie? What
amusing experiences we shall be able to chronicle, later on!"

Letitia babbled on like half a dozen brooks, and thinking up a gentle
parody, in the shape of, "cooks may come, and men may go," I decided to
leave my household gods for the bread-earning contest down-town. I could
not feel quite as sanguine as Letitia, who seemed to have forgotten the
dismal results of the advertisement--just one little puny Swedish
result. I should have preferred to make a choice. Letitia was as pleased
with Gerda Lyberg as though she had been a sel