When I entered the drawing-room after dinner, Lord Chelford was plainly arguing a point with the young ladies, and by the time I drew near, it was Miss Lake's turn to speak.
'Flattering of mankind, I am sure, I have no talent for; and without flattering and wheedling you'll never have conjugal obedience. Don't you remember Robin Hood? how--
'The mother of Robin said to her husband, My honey, my love, and my dear.'
And all this for leave to ride with her son to see her own brother at Gamwell.'
'I remember,' said Dorcas, with a smile. 'I wonder what has become of that old book, with its odd little woodcuts.
'And he said, I grant thee thy boon, gentle Joan! Take one of my horses straightway.'
'Well, though the book is lost, we retain the moral, you see,' said Rachel with a little laugh; 'and it has always seemed to me that if it had not been necessary to say, "my honey, my love, and my dear," that good soul would not have said it, and you may be pretty sure that if she had not, and with the suitable by-play too, she might not have ridden to Gamwell that day.'
'And you don't think _you_ could have persuaded yourself to repeat that little charm, which obtained her boon and one of his horses straightway?' said Lord Chelford.
'Well, I don't know what a great temptation and a contumacious husband might bring one to; but I'm afraid I'm a stubborn creature, and have not the feminine gift of flattery. If, indeed, he felt his inferiority and owned his dependence, I think I might, perhaps, have called him "my honey, my love, and my dear," and encouraged and comforted him; but to buy my personal liberty, and the right to visit my brother at Gamwell--never!'
And yet she looked, Lord Chelford thought, very goodhumoured and pleasant, and he fancied a smile from her might do more with some men than all gentle Joan's honeyed vocabulary.
'I own,' said Lord Chelford, laughing, 'that, from prejudice, I suppose, I am in favour of the apostolic method, and stand up for the divine right of my sex; but then, don't you see, it is your own fault, if you make it a question of right, when you may make it altogether one of fascination?'
'Who, pray, is disputing the husband's right to rule?' demanded old Lady Chelford unexpectedly.