tyranny--every one of them, I could see, merely a piece of rude
commonsense. The man must be calling himself an idiot for marrying
her. I could only listen with a long face. Argument with Emily is
out of the question. And I shall take good care not to go there
again."

Eve asked many questions, and approved his resolve.

"You are not the person to console and instruct her. But she must
look upon you as the best and wisest of men. I can understand that."

"You can understand poor, foolish Emily thinking so----"

"Put all the meaning you like into my words," said Eve, with her
pleasantest smile. "Well, I too have had a letter. From Patty. She
isn't going to be married, after all."

"Why, I thought it was over by now."

"She broke it off less than a week before the day. I wish I could
show you her letter, but, of course, I mustn't. It's very amusing.
They had quarrelled about every conceivable thing--all but one,
and this came up at last. They were talking about meals, and Mr.
Dally said that he liked a bloater for breakfast every morning. 'A
bloater!' cried Patty. 'Then I hope you won't ask me to cook it for
you. I can't bear them.' 'Oh, very well: if you can't cook a
bloater, you're not the wife for me.' And there they broke off, for
good and all."

"Which means for a month or two, I suppose."