a bit wiser than ever before and suggesting a change of scene and
environment for the lady, whose nerves undoubtedly had been affected
by the troubles of the past few weeks.

Every one about the place observed and secretly commented on the
amazing change in the mistress of the house. The calm, serene, level-
headed manager of Mr. Bingle's household had developed into a cranky,
dyspeptic tyrant whose pleasure it was to be unfailingly displeased
with everything, and who, despite the fact that she was not yet forty-
three, declared that she was a broken old woman without the remotest
hope of ever seeing a well day again in her life. She was quite
positive that she suffered from a dreadful and incurable malady. She
knew the symptoms, she had every one of them, and no doctor in the
world could convince her to the contrary--so she said. Her greatest
desire was to go to Peekskill, where she could find peace and quiet
and unutterable relief from the annoyances caused by the little
nuisances that Mr. Bingle had taken under his wing. In Peekskill her
mother and sister still lived the simple life, and that was what she
wanted more than anything else.

Mr. Bingle's gentle argument that he could not go to Peekskill with
her met with a petulant response. She made it plain to him that she
realised his preference for the children and that she was no longer of
any use to him as a companion or helpmate. For her own part, she'd
like to see them all in Jericho--meaning the children, of course. All
of which shocked and distressed poor Mr. Bingle beyond expression.

"What is it, Doctor? Physically she seems to be all right. Can it be
that she is going to pieces mentally? Why, she's always been the most
loving, gentle--"