of the Venus de Milo. These things will be our artistic
home. Then there are vases--"

"Now you are losing your temper."

"On the contrary, I'm reserving it. I shan't characterize the
bric-a-brac, that was to be expected."

"Don't!"

"At least that is not marked. I come at last to the silver. Give me the
list."

Clara sighed and extended it.

"Four solid silver terrapin dishes."

"Marked."

"Marked--Terrapin--ha! ha! Two massive, expensive, solid silver
champagne coolers."

"Marked."

"Marked, my dear--for each end of the table when we give our beefsteak
dinners. Almond dishes."

"Don't!"

"Forty-two individual, solid or filigree almond dishes; forty-two,
Clara."

"Marked."

"Right again, dear. One dozen bonbon dishes, five nouveau riche sugar
shakers (we never use them), three muffineers--in heaven's name, what's
that? Solid silver bread dishes, solid silver candlesticks by the dozen,
solid silver vegetable dishes, and we expect one servant and an
intermittent laundress to do the cooking, washing, make the beds and
clean the house besides."

"All marked," said Clara dolefully.

"Every one, my dear. Then the china and the plates, we can't even eat
out of the plates we want or drink from the glasses we wish; everything
in this house, from top to bottom has been picked out and inflicted upon
us against our wants and in defiance of our own taste and we--we have
got to go on living with them and trying not to quarrel!"

"You have forgotten the worst of all," said Clara.

"No, my darling, I have not forgotten it. I have thought of nothing
else, but I wanted you to mention it."

"The flat silver, George."

"The flat silver, my darling. Twelve dozen, solid silver and teaset to
match, bought without consulting us, by your two rich bachelor uncles in
collusion. We wanted Queen Anne or Louis Seize, simple, dignified,
something to live with and grow fond of, and what did we get?"

"Oh, dear, they might have asked me!"

"But they don't, they never do, that is the theory of wedding presents,
my dear. We got Pond Lily pattern, repousse until it scratches your
fingers. Pond Lily pattern, my dear, which I loathe, detest, and
abominate!"

"I too, George."

"And that, my dear, we shall never get rid of; we not only must adopt
and assume the responsibility, but must pass it down to our children and
our children's children."

"Oh, George, it is terrible--terrible! What are we going to do?"

"My darli