"And you, too. Is it not so, darling?"
"There's generally some sewing, or the accounts."
"Yes; but these things do not exercise the mind."
"Accounts do."
"Not in the way I mean." I had now reached my point. "How would it be if I were to read aloud to you? I don't think you have ever heard me read aloud. You are fond of the theatre, and we cannot often afford to go. This would make up for it. There are many men who would tell you that they would sooner have a play read aloud to them than see it acted in the finest theatre in the world."
"Would they? Well—perhaps—if I were only sewing it wouldn't interrupt me much."
I said, "That is not very graciously put, Eliza. There is a certain art in reading aloud. Some have it, and some have not. I do not know if I have ever told you, but when I was a boy of twelve I won a prize for recitation, though several older boys were competing against me."
She said that I had told her before several times.
I continued: "And I suppose that I have developed since then. A man in our office once told me that he thought I should have done well on the stage. I don't know whether I ever mentioned it."
She said that I had mentioned it once or twice.