your cousin Ermine, who is so much more sensible than his wife."
"I want no advice," said Eunice, in a tone which showed me that I had said enough. And presently she went on, "I thought you liked Mr. Caliph."
"So I do, immensely. He gives beautiful flowers."
"Ah, you are horrid!" she murmured.
"Of course I am horrid. That 's my business—to be horrid." And I took the liberty of being so again, half an hour later, when she remarked that she must take good care of the cheque Mr. Caliph had brought her, as it would be a good while before she should have another. "Why should it be longer than usual?" I asked. "Is he going to keep your income for himself?"
"I am not to have any till the end of the year—any from the trust, at least. Mr. Caliph has been converting some old houses into shops, so that they will bring more rent. But the alterations have to be paid for and he takes part of my income to do it."
"And pray what are you to live on meanwhile?"
"I have enough without that; and I have savings."
"It strikes me as a cool proceeding, all the same."
"He wrote to me about it before we came home, and I thought that way was best."
"I don't think he ought to have asked you," I said. "As your trustee, he acts in his discretion."
"You are hard to please," Eunice answered.
That is perfectly true; but I rejoined that I could n't make out whether he consulted her too much or too
