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"
"My dear Judith," said I, "my great and imperial namesake, in
whose meditations I have always found ineffable comfort, tells me
this: 'If anything external vexes you, take notice that it is not
the thing which disturbs you, but your notion about it, which
notion you may dismiss at once, if you please!' So I promise to
dismiss all my notions of your disturbing communication and not
to be vexed."
"If there is one platitudinist I dislike more than another, it is
Marcus Aurelius," said Judith.
I laughed. It was very comfortable to sit before the fire, which
protested, in a fire's cheery, human way, against the depression
of the murky world outside, and to banter Judith.
"I can quite understand it," I said. "A man sucks in the
consolations of philosophy; a woman solaces herself with
religion."
"I can do neither," she replied, changing her attitude with an
exaggerated shaking down of skirts. "If I could, I shouldn't
want to go away."
"Go away?" I echud.
"Yes. You mustn't be vexed with me. I haven't got a cook--"
"No one would have thought it, from the luncheon you gave me, my
dear.


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