appears to me a quite just cause and impediment."

"Oh, our 'Adagio'?" exclaimed Nan. "We've long since ceased to expect
much from her. Did she keep you waiting on the doorstep long?"

"Only about ten minutes," murmured St. John mildly. "But seriously, why
don't you--er--give her warning?"

"My dear innocent uncle!" protested Nan amusedly. "Don't you know that
that sort of thing isn't done nowadays--not in the best circles?"

"Besides," added Penelope practically, "we should probably be only out of
the frying pan into the fire. The jewels in the domestic line are few
and far between and certainly not to be purchased within our financial
limits. And frankly, there are very few jewels left at any price. Most
of the nice ones got married during the war--the servants you loved and
regarded as part of the family--and nine-tenths of those that are left
have no sense of even giving good work in return for their wages--let
alone civility! The tradition of good service has gone."

"Have you been having much bother, then?" asked St. John concernedly.
"You never used to have trouble with maids."

"No. But everyone has now. You wouldn't believe what they're like! I
don't think it's in the least surprising so many women have nervous
break-downs through nothing more nor less than domestic worry. Why, the
home-life of women these days is more like a daily battlefield than
anything else!"

Penelope spoke strongly. She had suffered considerably at the hands of