m."

"It's quite true," she answered. "We did have parties and things. They
made me miserable. I hated them."

"Rather odd; aren't you?"

"I hated them and loathed them," she continued. "For it only meant there
were crowds of women who tried to flirt with you."

"That's an _idee fixe_ of yours, my dear. Pure fancy, you know."

"Well; all I know is I hated to see you talking to the women who came
here. I tell you, quite frankly, _that's_ the reason why I've given up
accepting invitations and giving them. Of course, if you _insist_, I
will. I would do anything you told me."

"Oh, good God, no! Let's cut out the parties, then. Don't have them for
_me_! I thought it would be fun for you. ... What _do_ you do all day,
Mary, if I may ask? You never seem to have any shopping--or hobbies--or
anything that other women have to do."

"I do the housekeeping in the morning," she said; "I see cook and look
after everything to make things as _you_ like."

"And I'm sure you do it very well indeed. But it doesn't take long; and
after that----?"

"I sit in that chair looking out of the window for you."

He bit his lip impatiently, trying not to be irritable.

"It's very nice of you, Mary, I'm sure. But I do wish you wouldn't!"

"Why not? Don't you _like_ me to be waiting for you?"

"No--I don't. I should like to think you were enjoying yourself; having
a good time."

"Well, I shouldn't do it if you took me out with you always."

"My dear, I'm always delighted to take you with me, but I can't take you
everywhere."

"Where can't you take me?"

"Well--to the club!" He smiled, and took up a newspaper.

"I suppose you must go to your club sometimes," she said rather
grudgingly. "But tell me, Nigel, would you like us to go in more for
society again as we used at first?"

He thought a moment. There were more quarrels when they saw more
people--in fact, the fewer people they met the fewer subjects arose for
scenes.

"Well," he said, "suppose you give just one party this year. Just to
'keep our circle together,' as they say--then we can stop it again, if
you like."

"What sort of party?"

"Any sort. Musical, if you like."

"Oh! that means having horrid singers and players, and performers! I
don't like that set, Nigel."

"All right. Let's give a dance. We've got a splendid floor."

"A _dance_? Oh no. I don't dance; and I couldn't bear to see you dancing
with anyone."

"This is all very flattering, my dear, but yo