Breakfast achieved, Mr. Prohack wondered what he should do next, for he had nothing to do; he had no worries, and almost no solicitudes; he had successfully adapted himself to his environment. Through the half-open door of the dining-room he heard Sissie and Ozzie. Ozzie was off to the day's business, and Sissie was seeing him out of the house, as Eve used to see Mr. Prohack out. Ozzie, by reason of a wedding present of ten thousand pounds given in defiance of Sissie's theories, and with the help of his own savings, was an important fellow now in the theatrical world, having attained a partnership with the Napoleon of the stage.
"You'd no business to send for the doctor without telling me," Sissie was saying in her harsh tone. "What do I want with a doctor?"
"I thought it would be for the best, dear," came Ozzie's lisping reply.
"Well, it won't, my boy."
The door banged.
"Eve never saw me off like that," Mr. Prohack reflected.
Sissie entered the room, some letters in her hand. She was exceedingly attractive, matron-like, interesting—but formidable.
Said Mr. Prohack, glancing up at her:
"It is the duty of the man to protect and the woman to charm—and I don't care who knows it."
"What on earth do you mean, dad?"