“Not a drop. My poor weak head is upset in a moment. But you really need it, dear; and I can so thoroughly feel for you, because the poor Count, when my Flore was born, waited on me with such devotion, day and night, hand and foot.”
“And I am sure Mr. Corklemore must do the same. No husband could help adoring you.”
“Oh, he is very good, ‘according to his lights,’ as they say. But I have known him let me cough three times without getting up for the jujubes. And once—but perhaps I ought not to tell you: it was so very bad.”
“Oh, you may safely tell me, dear. I will never repeat it to any one.”
“He actually allowed me to sneeze in the carriage without saying that I must have a new fur cloak, or even asking if I had a cold.”
“Oh dear, is that all? I may sneeze six times in an hour, and my husband take no notice, but run out and leave the front door open, and prune his horrid little trees. And then he shouts for his patent top–dressing. He thinks far more of dressing them than he does of dressing me.”
“And donʼt you know the reason? Donʼt cry, sweet child; donʼt cry. I have had so much experience. I understand men so thoroughly.”
“Oh yes, I know the reason. I am cross to him sometimes. And of course I canʼt expect a man with a mind like his——”
“You may expect any man to be as wise as Solomon, if you only know how to manage him. It is part of the law of nature.”
“Then I am sure I donʼt know what that means: except that people must get married, and ought to love one another.”