“It was all too—difficult,” she said haltingly. “I—I made a mess of it.”

“I daresay,” Mrs. Gabriel answered. “There’s a deal of give and take in marriage, and girls don’t realise it.” She rested her rolling-pin up on end, and smiled across at Elizabeth. “The man takes and the woman gives. Leastways, I’ve always found it so.”

Elizabeth, seated on a small table against the wall, munching apples, said wistfully,

“Have you, Mrs. Gabriel?”

“It comes more natural to us, you see, and a man’s a great weak creature when all’s said and done, without much more understanding than a baby. You’re to humour a man. Lord, that’s what we’re here for! It’s a poor woman who’s got no man to manage.”

“If he can be managed.”

The rolling-pin went vigorously to and fro. Mrs. Gabriel chuckled; it was a comfortable sound, full of wisdom.

“You can take it from me, my dear, the man that can’t be managed don’t exist. I never met one that couldn’t be twisted round the finger of some woman, if she had the mind to do it.” She looked up, and her smile embraced Elizabeth. “Bless you, I’ve been through it, too. We most of us have, only there’s some as takes it harder than others. You start off thinking everything’s like a feather-bed, and you find that it isn’t.”

“No. More like a bed of—of thorns.”

“Oh, not always, dearie. When you’re courting, of course, you’ve got it all your own way, and your man’s on his best behaviour. He brings you flowers and what-not, and pets you and cossets you as though you was made of china. You’re the weak one, then, and you think it’ll always be the same. But when you’re married, it changes. Men can’t keep up their best behaviour for long. It seems kind of exhausting. The best thing you can do is to remember that he’s a baby in most things, and start feeling motherly as soon as may be.”

“Motherly?” Elizabeth offered the core of her apple to Nellie, who politely accepted it and placed it under the table. “Can one?”

“The best wives do, dearie. It’s a great help to you if you can keep it in mind. My gracious, don’t I know what a worriting creature a man can be? But, Lord, they don’t mean anything! It’s the way they’re made, and to make allowances for them is the way we’re made.”

“It—it isn’t the way I’m made,” Elizabeth said sadly. “I didn’t seem able to—make allowances.”