Listening Valley by D. E. Stevenson Page B

the matter with the fish, why add that I’m too particular?”
    â€œYou’re far too particular…”
    â€œI only want plain food properly cooked. That’s not much to ask.”
    â€œPlain food is the most difficult to cook well.”
    â€œHave elaborate food, then,” retorted Mr. Melville. “Have anything you like, only have it right. I’ll eat anything.”
    â€œYou said just now that you couldn’t eat this.”
    â€œAnything if it’s properly cooked,” cried Mr. Melville with violence. “ Anything. We pay the woman enough in all conscience. Why can’t she cook?”
    â€œShe can cook—”
    â€œYou don’t bother to keep her up to the mark, that’s what’s the matter.”
    â€œIt’s my fault, is it?”
    â€œOf course. You do the housekeeping, don’t you? If you can’t spare the time, why don’t you hand it over to Tonia?”
    â€œTonia!” cried Mrs. Melville. “I’d like to see the sort of hash Tonia would make of it.”
    â€œShe couldn’t do much worse than you,” declared Mr. Melville. “You had better try her out. It would be good practice for her.”
    â€œPractice for what?”
    â€œFor when she has a house of her own, of course.”
    â€œTonia isn’t likely to be married.”
    â€œLou is married—”
    â€œA hole-and-corner affair. I pity her husband,” cried Mrs. Melville wildly. “Neither Lou nor Tonia has ever taken the slightest interest in the house. Tonia is interested in nothing but books— books! She’s cut out for an old maid.”
    Tonia listened to all this in silence. She ought to have become used to rows by this time. She ought to have learned that they never led to anything but were just sound and fury and blew over like thunderclouds leaving a clear sky, but Tonia was too sensitive. She felt the blows upon her own person—felt them far more keenly than the antagonists. Tonight she was not only frightened, she was angry as well, for the mention of Lou’s name had the power to rouse her. So she suddenly broke into the discussion, saying in a loud and rather unnatural voice, “But I’m going to be married quite soon.”
    The remark certainly had the effect of stopping the fight. Tonia’s parents were immediately silent, gazing at her. Her mother gazed at her with amazement and consternation, her father with a curious expression that was hard to read.
    â€œTo Robert,” said Tonia, taking up the carafe and pouring out some water with rather an unsteady hand. “He asked me today on the beach at North Berwick. That’s why we were—a little late.”
    â€œAre you sure you want to?” asked Mr. Melville. “I mean, Norman is an awfully good fellow, but he—he isn’t young. You had better be quite sure, Tonia. I mean—”
    â€œI’m quite sure,” declared Tonia, and indeed she was, for at that moment Robert Norman seemed a refuge and a sure tower.
    â€œBut it’s a splendid match!” exclaimed Mrs. Melville, gazing at her daughter with something like awe. “Robert Norman! I never thought for a moment…could he really have meant it?”
    â€œWhat on earth are you talking about?” demanded Mr. Melville.
    â€œI mean, Tonia is so— so silly. Perhaps she misunderstood. I can hardly believe—”
    â€œIt’s you who are silly, Ella,” interrupted her husband. “As a matter of fact, I know all about it. Norman spoke to me the other day.”
    â€œSpoke to you ?”
    â€œI’m the girl’s father,” said Mr. Melville with elaborate patience. “At least so I’ve been led to believe. I thought it very proper that he should speak to me. He was extremely nice about it. Of course the whole thing depends on Tonia. Nobody is going to force her into it.”
    â€œI’ve made up my