I therefore began to button up my cloak with an unmistakable finality, determined to seek the others and suggest a return to the camp.
“You forget,” I said, while I buttoned, “that an outburst of annoyance has nothing whatever to do with the calm discharge of a reasonable man’s obligations.”
“What, you’ve been quite calm and happy when you’ve been doing what you call rebuke?” said she, looking up at me. “Oh, Baron.” And she shook her head and smiled.
“Calm, I hope and believe, but not happy. Nor did I expect to be. Duty has nothing to do with one’s happiness.”
“No, nor with the other one’s,” said she quickly.
Of course I could have scattered her reasoning to the winds if I had chosen to bring real logic to bear on it, but it would have taken time, she being very unconvinceable, and I really could not be bothered.
“Let Menzies-Legh convince her,” thought I, making myself ready for the walk back in the rain, aware that I had quite enough to do convincing my own wife.
“Try praising,” said Mrs. Menzies-Legh.
Not seeing the point, I buttoned in silence.
“Praising and encouraging. You’d be astonished at the results.”