“I have managed to get home to lunch, my dear.”

“Indeed.

“Well, you might take a little notice of me.”

“Why?  Is there anything remarkable about you this morning?”

“No, there is not; but, remarkable or not, a man who has been fool enough”—­Mr. Bellamy laid great emphasis on the word “fool”—­“to get married has a right to expect when he comes into his own house that he will have a little notice taken of him, and not be as completely overlooked as—­as though he were a tub of butter in a grocer’s shop;” and he pugged out his chest, rubbed his hands, and looked defiant.

The lady laid her head back on the chair, and laughed with exquisite enjoyment.

“Really, my dear John, you will kill me,” she said at length.

“May I ask,” he replied, looking as though there was nothing in the world that he would like better, “what you are laughing at?”

“Your slightly vulgar but happy simile; it is easy to see where you draw your inspiration from.  If you had only said butterine, inferior butter, you know, the counterfeit article, it would have been perfect.”

Her husband gave a glance at his tubby little figure in the glass.

“Am I to understand that you refer to me as ‘butterine,’ Mrs. Bellamy?”

“Oh! certainly yes, if you like; but, butter or not, you will melt if you lose your temper so.”

“I have not lost my temper, madam; I am perfectly cool,” he replied, positively gasping with fury.  Here his eye fell upon the necklace.  “What necklace is that? who gave you that necklace?  I demand to know.”

“You demand to know!  Be careful what you say, please.  Mr. George Caresfoot gave me the necklace.  It cost a thousand pounds.  Are you satisfied?”

“No, I am not satisfied; I will not have that cursed George Caresfoot continually here.  I will send him back his necklace.  I will assert my rights as an Englishman and a spouse, I will——­”

“You will sit down and listen to me.”

The tone of the voice checked his absurd linguistic and physical capers, and caused him to look at his wife.  She was standing and pointing to a chair.  Her face was calm and immovable, only her eyes appeared to expand and contract with startling rapidity.  One glance was enough for Bellamy.  He felt frightened, and sat down in the indicated chair.

“That’s right,” she said, pleasantly; “now we can have a cosy chat.  John, you are a lawyer, and therefore, I suppose, more or less a man of the world.  Now, as a lawyer and a man of the world, I ask you to look at me and then at yourself, and say if you think it likely or even possible that I married you for love.  To be frank, I did nothing of the sort; I married you because you were the person most suited to my purpose.  If you will only understand that it will save us both a great deal of trouble.  As for your talk about asserting yourself and exercising your authority,