"Doing wot?" inquired Mr. Dowson, removing his pipe and regarding her
open-mouthed. "I only said----"

"I know what you said," retorted his wife. "Here I do my best from
morning to night to make everybody 'appy and comfortable; and what
happens?"

"Nothing," said the sympathetic Mr. Dowson, shaking his head. "Nothing."

"Anyway, Jenny ain't married a fool," said Mrs. Dowson, hotly; "she's got
that consolation."

"That's right, mother," said the innocent Mr. Dowson, "look on the bright
side o' things a bit. If Jenny 'ad married a better chap I don't suppose
we should see half as much of her as wot we do."

"I'm talking of Flora," said his wife, restraining herself by an effort.
"One unfortunate marriage in the family is enough; and here, instead o'
walking out with young Ben Lippet, who'll be 'is own master when his
father dies, she's gadding about with that good-for-nothing Charlie
Foss."

Mr. Dowson shook his head. "He's so good-looking, is Charlie," he said,
slowly; "that's the worst of it. Wot with 'is dark eyes and his curly
'air----"

"Go on!" said his wife, passionately, "go on!"

Mr. Dowson, dimly conscious that something was wrong, stopped and puffed