"That is where she was foolish," said the Girton Girl. "Silence in
such cases is a mistake. The other party does not know what is the
matter with you, and you yourself--your temper bottled up within--
become more disagreeable every day."

"She confided her trouble to a friend," I explained.

"I so dislike people who do that," said the Woman of the World.
"Emily never would speak to George; she would come and complain
about him to me, as if I were responsible for him: I wasn't even
his mother. When she had finished, George would come along, and I
had to listen to the whole thing over again from his point of view.
I got so tired of it at last that I determined to stop it."

"How did you succeed?" asked the Old Maid, who appeared to be
interested in the recipe.

"I knew George was coming one afternoon," explained the Woman of the
World, "so I persuaded Emily to wait in the conservatory. She
thought I was going to give him good advice; instead of that I
sympathised with him and encouraged him to speak his mind freely,
which he did. It made her so mad that she came out and told him
what she thought of him. I left them at it. They were both of them
the better for it; and so was I."

"In my case," I said, "it came about differently. Her friend
explained to him just what was happening. She pointed out to him
how his neglect and indifference were slowly alienating his wife's
affections from him. He argued the subject.