"I don't want to go where I'm not wanted," retorted Mr. Blundell.

"That's where you make a mistake," said the other, regarding him
severely; "girls like a masterful man, and, instead of getting your own
way, you sit down quietly and do as you're told, like a tame--tame--"

"Tame what?" inquired Mr. Blundell, resentfully.

"I don't know," said the other, frankly; "the tamest thing you can think
of. There's Daly laughing in his sleeve at you, and talking to Venia
about Waterloo and the Crimea as though he'd been there. I thought it
was pretty near settled between you."

"So did I," said Mr. Blundell.

"You're a big man, John," said the other, "but you're slow. You're all
muscle and no head."

"I think of things afterward," said Blundell, humbly; "generally after I
get to bed."

Mr. Turnbull sniffed, and took a turn up and down the room; then he
closed the door and came toward his friend again.

"I dare say you're surprised at me being so anxious to get rid of Venia,"
he said, slowly, "but the fact is I'm thinking of marrying again myself."

"You!" said the startled Mr. Blundell.

"Yes, me," said the other, somewhat sharply. "But she won't marry so