"Very well, Ethelbertha," I replied, "it shall be as you wish. If you
desire a holiday from my presence, you shall enjoy it; but if it be not
impertinent curiosity on the part of a husband, I should like to know
what you propose doing in my absence?"

"We will take that house at Folkestone," answered Ethelbertha, "and I'll
go down there with Kate. And if you want to do Clara Harris a good
turn," added Ethelbertha, "you'll persuade Harris to go with you, and
then Clara can join us. We three used to have some very jolly times
together before you men ever came along, and it would be just delightful
to renew them. Do you think," continued Ethelbertha, "that you could
persuade Mr. Harris to go with you?"

I said I would try.

"There's a dear boy," said Ethelbertha; "try hard. You might get George
to join you."

I replied there was not much advantage in George's coming, seeing he was
a bachelor, and that therefore nobody would be much benefited by his
absence. But a woman never understands satire. Ethelbertha merely
remarked it would look unkind leaving him behind. I promised to put it
to him.

I met Harris at the Club in the afternoon, and asked him how he had got
on.

He said, "Oh, that's all right; there's no difficulty about getting
away."