"Very well, Ethelbertha," I replied, "it shall be as you wish. If you desire a holiday from my presence, you shall enjoy it; but if it be not impertinent curiosity on the part of a husband, I should like to know what you propose doing in my absence?"
"We will take that house at Folkestone," answered Ethelbertha, "and I’ll go down there with Kate. And if you want to do Clara Harris a good turn," added Ethelbertha, "you’ll persuade Harris to go with you, and then Clara can join us. We three used to have some very jolly times together before you men ever came along, and it would be just delightful to renew them. Do you think," continued Ethelbertha, "that you could persuade Mr. Harris to go with you?"
I said I would try.
"There’s a dear boy," said Ethelbertha; "try hard. You might get George to join you."
I replied there was not much advantage in George’s coming, seeing he was a bachelor, and that therefore nobody would be much benefited by his absence. But a woman never understands satire. Ethelbertha merely remarked it would look unkind leaving him behind. I promised to put it to him.
I met Harris at the Club in the afternoon, and asked him how he had got on.
He said, "Oh, that’s all right; there’s no difficulty about getting away."
But there was that about his tone that suggested incomplete satisfaction, so I pressed him for further details.
"She was as sweet as milk about it," he continued; "said it was an excellent idea of George’s, and that she thought it would do me good."
"That seems all right," I said; "what’s wrong about that?"
"There’s nothing wrong about that," he answered, "but that wasn’t all. She went on to talk of other things."
"I understand," I said.
"There’s that bathroom fad of hers," he continued.
"I’ve heard of it," I said; "she has started Ethelbertha on the same idea."
"Well, I’ve had to agree to that being put in hand at once; I couldn’t argue any more when she was so nice about the other thing. That will cost me a hundred pounds, at the very least."
"As much as that?" I asked.
"Every penny of it," said Harris; "the estimate alone is sixty."
I was sorry to hear him say this.
"Then there’s the kitchen stove," continued Harris; "everything that has gone wrong in the house for the last two years has been the fault of that kitchen stove."