“It’s alway’s off and on as far as I can see.  Do you mean to send that girl to Cheltenham?”

“I rather think she had better go—­for a time.”

“Then I shall leave this house and go with my girls to Norrington.”  Now this threat, which had been made before, was quite without meaning.  Mrs. Masters’ parents were both dead, and her brother, who had a large family, certainly would not receive her.  “I won’t remain here, Mr. Masters, if I ain’t to be mistress of my own house.  What is she to go to Cheltenham for, I should like to know?”

Then Sundown was desired by his wretched employer to go into the back settlement and the poor man prepared himself for the battle as well as he could.  “She is not happy here,” he said.

“Whose fault is that?  Why shouldn’t she be happy?  Of course you know what it means.  She has got round you because she wants to be a fine lady.  What means have you to make her a fine lady?  If you was to die to-morrow what would there be for any of ’em?  My little bit of money is all gone.  Let her stay here and be made to marry Lawrence Twentyman.  That’s what I say.”

“She will never marry Mr. Twentyman.”

“Not if you go on like this she won’t.  If you’d done your duty by her like a real father instead of being afraid of her when she puts on her tantrums; she’d have been at Chowton Farm by this time.”

It was clear to him that now was the time not to be afraid of his wife when she put on her tantrums,—­or at any rate, to appear not to be afraid.  “She has been very unhappy of late.”

“Oh, unhappy!  She’s been made more of than anybody else in this house.”

“And a change will do her good.  She has my permission to go;—­and go she shall!” Then the word had been spoken.

“She shall!”

“It is very much for the best.  While she is here the house is made wretched for us all.”

“It’ll be wretcheder yet; unless it would make you happy to see me dead on the threshold,—­which I believe it would.  As for her, she’s an ungrateful, sly, wicked slut”

“She has done nothing wicked that I know of.”

“Not writing to that old woman behind my back?”

“She told me what she was doing and showed me the letter.”

“Yes; of course.  The two of you were in it.  Does that make it any better?  I say it was sly and wicked; and you were sly and wicked as well as she.  She has got the better of you, and now you are going to send her away from the only chance she’ll ever get of having a decent home of her own over her head.”

“There’s nothing more to be said about it, my dear.  She’ll go to Lady Ushant” Having thus pronounced his dictum with all the marital authority he was able to assume he took his hat and sallied forth.  Mrs. Masters, when she was left alone, stamped her foot and hit the desk with a ruler that was lying there.  Then she went up-stairs and threw herself on her bed in a paroxysm of weeping and wailing.