and I can’t open those which I can shut. These, and many others of the kind, are things which not only call for the services of the mason, the plumber and the carpenter, but for my personal supervision, as well.”
“I see,” said Miss Berrith. “All the petty annoyances which a wife takes off her husband’s hands.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to say that, in all probability, the least petty annoyance on a husband’s hands would be the wife herself, but, somehow — I didn’t. My principal mistake in regard to Miss Berrith had lain in attaching a hidden significance to everything she said. I think we men are too apt to over-estimate the subtlety of women. In the present instance, her remark was undoubtedly quite without mental reservation.
But, though I spoke jestingly of them, these self-same little things were far from contributing to my comfort. The name, too, was legion of the things which I found I had
