"But there's no harm in trying," persisted Mrs. Chalk.

Mr. Stobell made no reply. Having reached his fifth slice he was now
encouraging his appetite with apricot jam.

"And it's so cheap," continued Mrs. Chalk.

"That's the way I look at it. If she shuts up the house and gets rid of
the servants, same as I am going to do, it will save a lot of money."

She glanced at Mr. Stobell, whose slowly working jaws and knitted brows
appeared to indicate deep thought, and then gave a slight triumphant nod
at his wife.

"Servants are so expensive," she murmured. "Really, I shouldn't be
surprised if we saved money on the whole affair. And then think of her
health. She has never quite recovered from that attack of bronchitis.
She has never looked the same woman since. Think of your feelings if
anything happened to her. Nothing would bring her back to you if once
she went."

"Went where?" inquired Mr. Stobell, who was not attending very much.

"If she died, I mean," said Mrs. Chalk, shortly.

"We've all got to die some day," said the philosophic Mr. Stobell.
"She's forty-six."

Mrs. Stobell interposed. "Not till September, Robert," she said, almost
firmly.