In just the same way she should have borne with him when he was late for meals, or irritable because some tiny thing had annoyed him. She ought never to have defended herself; that led to fruitless quarrels. She should have let him “talk big,” and coaxed him back to good-humour.

“I see,” she said. “I—I wish I’d met you before. I —always thought myself so helpless—beside my husband.”

“And so you are, my dear, if you choose. If you’re one of those as likes to feel your husband’s strong and masterful, so much the better for you. As long as you get your own way I’m not denying that it’s nice to think your man’s a rock. Why, dearie, that’s what all women want to think! It’s Nature, and that’s why we let our men master us on occasion. But they don’t do it except by our consent, and never you believe it!”

“I don’t think all men are so—weak and—and easily led, Mrs. Gabriel.”

“Oh, some’s easier than others, of course! There’s times when a man’s strong, and I’m not saying that a man’s arms round you isn’t a safe comfortable feeling. When something comes to frighten you, you’ll run to your husband, and that’s when he’s top-dog. He’s top-dog too when it comes to looking out a train in the A. B. C. That’s a thing women don’t understand; a man’s in his element with a time-table.”

Elizabeth laughed.

“Yes, that’s so. One misses one’s husband for those things. It’s nice too—to feel that there’s someone—behind you—to—to back you up, and—and take care of you.”

“Urn!” said Mrs. Gabriel. “I’ve felt that way myself, of course. You go back to your husband, dearie, and remember that with all his faults he’s necessary to you, same as you are to him. And don’t fuss him, when he’s not in the mood for it. That’s an important thing to remember. Don’t be for ever worriting him to change his wet boots or to come to bed at ten o’clock. He doesn’t like it, and what’s more he won’t do it. Leave him alone; he likes to think he knows best what’s good for him.”

“But supposing it isn’t good for him? I don’t see how—”

“Never you mind. It’s better he should take a chill and be laid up than that he should think you a nuisance. Once he takes to his bed you’re top-dog again, because there’s nothing so helpless and dependent as a man when he’s ill. You’ve got it all your own way then, and he’ll do any mortal thing you tell him.”

“Will he? My husband—never was ill.”