"'Don't talk to me about travel,' said Bill. 'We've worn ruts in the earth now. Our feet have touched every land.'
"'How many meals do you eat a day?'
"'Three.'
"'Try six,' I suggested.
"He laughed, an' I thought I was makin' progress, so I kept on.
"'How many motor-cars have ye ?'
"'Four.'
"'Get eight,' I advised, as Bill put on the loud pedal. 'You've got nineteen servants, I believe, try thirty-eight. You have—twenty-one dogs—get forty-two. You can afford it.'
"'Come, be serious,' said Bill. 'Don't poke fun at me.'
"'Ah! but your wife must be able to prove that she has more dogs an' horses an' servants an' motor-cars, an' that she eats more meals in a day than any other woman in Connecticut. Then, maybe, she'll be happy. You know it's a woman's ambition to excel.'