that's just like you.' 'What's like me?' says the gentleman
sharply. 'Saying that I contradict you,' replies the lady. 'Do
you mean to say that you do NOT contradict me?' retorts the
gentleman; 'do you mean to say that you have not been contradicting
me the whole of this day?' 'Do you mean to tell me now, that you
have not? I mean to tell you nothing of the kind,' replies the
lady quietly; 'when you are wrong, of course I shall contradict
you.'

During this dialogue the gentleman has been taking his brandy-and-
water on one side of the fire, and the lady, with her dressing-case
on the table, has been curling her hair on the other. She now lets
down her back hair, and proceeds to brush it; preserving at the
same time an air of conscious rectitude and suffering virtue, which
is intended to exasperate the gentleman--and does so.

'I do believe,' he says, taking the spoon out of his glass, and
tossing it on the table, 'that of all the obstinate, positive,
wrong-headed creatures that were ever born, you are the most so,
Charlotte.' 'Certainly, certainly, have it your own way, pray.
You see how much _I_ contradict you,' rejoins the lady. 'Of
course, you didn't contradict me at dinner-time--oh no, not you!'
says the gentleman. 'Yes, I did,' says the lady. 'Oh, you did,'
cries the gentleman 'you admit that?' 'If you call that
contradiction, I do,' the lady answers; 'and I say again, Edward,
that when I know you are wrong, I will contradict you. I am not
your slave.' 'Not my slave!' repeats the gentleman bitterly; 'and
you still mean to say that in the Blackburns' new house there are
not more than fourteen doors, including the door of the wine-
cellar!' 'I mean to say,' retorts the lady, beating time with her