Suzanna's that I've either not noticed, or perhaps laughed at." She
paused to smile at her husband.

"Such children come of giving them an inventor father, an 'impractical
genius,' as I've heard myself in satire called."

She flushed up angrily at this.

"You've done wonderfully well," she said, and believed the assertion;
just as though at forty to weigh nails correctly and to sell so many
yards of garden hose a week was a fine measure of success. "And your
name will go ringing down the ages." She would never let him lose
confidence in his own powers. Circumstances alone had thrown him into a
mediocre position in a small town, but they should never hold him down.

He grew beneath her look; beneath her belief in him. And so the
conversation ended on the personal note; ended with hands clasped and
fond eyes seeing each the other's charm after many years.

Suzanna, arranging the pantry the next morning, sought her mother
upstairs with a domestic announcement.

"The vinegar bottle is empty," she said.

"And the gherkins all ready," cried Mrs. Procter. "Will you run over to
Mrs. Reynolds and ask her for some vinegar, Suzanna?"

Listlessly, Suzanna returned downstairs, and from the pantry procured a
cup. Slowly she left the house, walked down the front path and across
the road to Mrs. Reynolds' home. Arrived there, she went round to the