had started a free fight in the streets, and had got himself into
jail for a fortnight. It was the first week of his imprisonment,
and Selina had committed a series of faults intolerable in a maid.
She sent Margaret to a ball with a long tear in her skirt; she let
her go out, open in the back, both in blouse and in placket; she
upset a cup of hot cafe au lait on her arm; finally she tore a
strap off a shoe as she was fastening it on Margaret's foot.
Though no one has been able to fathom it, there must be a reason
for the perversity whereby our outbursts of anger against any
seriously-offending fellow-being always break on some trivial
offense, never on one of the real and deep causes of wrath.
Margaret, though ignorant of her maid's secret grief and shame,
had borne patiently the sins of omission and commission, only a
few of which are catalogued above; this, though the maid, absorbed
in her woe, had not even apologized for a single one of them. On
the seventh day of discomforts and disasters Margaret lost her
temper at the triviality of the ripping off of the shoe-strap, and
poured out upon Selina not only all her resentment against her but
also all that she had been storing up since the beginning of the
season against life and destiny. Selina sat on the floor
stupefied; Margaret, a very incarnation of fury, raged up and down
the room, venting every and any insult a naturally caustic wit
suggested. "And," she wound up, "I want you to clear out at once.
I'll send you your month's wages. I can't give you a character--
except for honesty. I'll admit, you are too stupid to steal. Clear
out, and never let me see you again."

She swept from the room, drove away to lunch at Mrs. Baker's. She
acted much as usual, seemed to be enjoying herself, for the
luncheon was very good indeed, Mrs. Baker's chef being new from