"Herbert!" said his wife, authoritatively. "Be still. Actually, you're
quite excited!"

Hawkins lapsed into sulky silence, and the meal ended with just a hint
of constraint.

Mrs. Hawkins and my wife adjourned to the drawing-room, and Hawkins
and I were left, theoretically, to smoke a post-prandial cigar.
Hawkins, however, had other plans for my entertainment.

"Are they up-stairs?" he muttered, as footsteps sounded above us.

"They seem to be."

"Then you come with me," whispered Hawkins, heading me toward the
servants' staircase.

"Where?" I inquired suspiciously.

There was a peculiar glitter in his eye.

"Come along and you'll see," chuckled Hawkins, beginning the ascent.
"Oh, I'll tell you what," he continued, pausing on the second landing,
"these women make me tired!"

"Indeed?"

"Yes, they do. You needn't look huffy, Griggs. It isn't your wife or
my wife. It's the whole sex. They chatter and prattle and make silly