"I confess I don't."
"But I believe," said she, "if you explained it all to her, she'd give in for once."
Rather against his judgment, he endeavoured to explain, "We simply can't not ask him, you know."
"Ask him by all means. But I shall have to put myself on the Gardners, or the Proctors, for the Eliotts are away."
"Don't be absurd. You know you won't be allowed to do anything of the sort."
"There's nothing else left for me to do."
He looked at her gravely; but his speech was light, for it was not in him to be weighty. "Don't you think that, at this holy season, for the sake of peace, and good-will, and all the rest of it, you might drop it just for once? And let the poor chap have a happy Christmas?"
She seemed to be considering it. "You think me very hard," said she.
"Oh no, no, not hard." But he was wondering for the first time what this wife of his was made of.
"Yes, hard. I don't want you to think me hard. If you could understand why I cannot meet that man—what it means to me—the effect it has on me."