she said slowly. "I sometimes think that mother would think far more of father if he saw some faults in her."
"I am quite puzzled," I said; "you grumble because I analyse people and now you grumble because your father doesn't. , child?" But she shook her head helplessly.
"Oh, I don't know," she cried, and she sat for a long time in deep thought.
As I sat by her side in the picture-house tea-room I recollected a saying of her's one day last week. I was sitting at the bothy door reading The New Age, and at my feet lay The Nation and The New Statesman. She picked up The Nation and glanced at its pages.
"I don't know why you waste your money on papers like that," she said petulantly. "You spend eighteenpence a week on papers, and father only gets John Bull and The people's Journal."
It suddenly came to me that Margaret was not thinking of the money side of the question at all; what annoyed her was the thought that[pg 72] these papers were a symbol of a world that she did not know. And now I wonder whether woman is not always jealous of a man's work. It is a long time since I read Antony and Cleopatra, but I half fancy that Cleopatra was much more jealous of Antony's work than of his wife.