Giacomo did not much believe in untamed irregular genius. It was certainly of no use in clockmaking.
"Well, what then?"
"I should say that she suffers through limitation of her sphere. No suffering like that, Giacomo. Ah me!"
Mrs. Dabb shook back her hair, and put both her hands to her forehead.
"Does your head ache?"
"No; at least not more than usual. I always have a weight there; I believe it is merely ideas. I asked a very eminent young man who lives not far from us—he occupies a high position in the hospital—a dresser, I think, they call him; and he said it was due to overstrung—dear me, what was it! I remember putting it down, it seemed so exactly to coincide with my own views."
Mrs. Dabb looked in her pocket-book.
"Overstrung cerebration, that was it; overstrung cerebration."
"What were you going to say about Miriam?"
"A little proposal. My husband wants a clerk. Why not let Andrew take the place, and Miriam be his housekeeper? We have no room for them, but apartments are to be procured at a low rate."