The dinner-table seemed like a miniature garden of exquisite flowers, amid which gleamed the silver, crystal, and costly Haviland china—a recent acquisition. Mr. Pomeroy was a man who always liked to be sure that he had "the best" of everything, and who regarded it as a duty to gratify his desire to the utmost. As Nora sat down and involuntarily took in the impression of beauty, brilliancy and costliness afforded by the whole, her thoughts went back once more to poor Lizzie's struggling life, with its sordid surroundings, and the winter jacket she couldn't buy. But Mr. Archer's amusing flow of talk, and the interest of finding out the ideas and tastes of a new acquaintance, soon diverted her thoughts. Mr. Chillingworth, who had taken in his hostess, was seated on her other side, and claimed a large share of her attention. A certain Mr. Wharton, of literary proclivities, and the old gentleman aforesaid, were nearly opposite.
"So good of you to come this evening," said Mrs. Pomeroy. "We shouldn't have fixed on Saturday, but it seemed the only evening we could have Miss Harley, who will be here only for a few days. But we thought you wouldn't mind, for once."
"Oh, I happened to be pretty well up with my work this week; so I could allow myself the pleasure, with a clear conscience," replied the clergyman.
The talk drifted about in the usual inconsequential manner of dinner-parties. The courses, entrées, et cætera, were many and elaborate, and were evidently thoroughly appreciated, by the gentlemen, at least. Mr. Archer smilingly noticed that Miss Blanchard declined wine, as indeed did the hostess, also, who had pronounced views on the subject of total abstinence, it appeared, although yielding to her husband's wish to have wine at his table. Mrs Pomeroy was indeed a "prominent worker," as the Minerva would have put it, on various philanthropic and mission boards So she hastened to reinforce Miss Blanchard in a playful skirmish as to the merits of total abstinence societies and of Prohibition, of which she was a strenuous advocate. Mr Pomeroy presently, however, shut off the discussion by telling his friends that they had better enjoy their champagne while they could, as Mrs Pomeroy was determined to take it from them altogether, and there was no knowing how soon she might succeed. And then he struck at once into a fresh subject.
"By the way, Wharton, that was a capital letter of yours in the Minerva the other day, on that last book of Henry George's."
"Glad you thought so," replied Mr Wharton, complacently. "I thought the Minerva was growing quite too enthusiastic over it, so I just touched them up a little on the subject."
"And you did to some purpose," said his host. "That was a good point you made, anyway—when you showed up the fallacy of that absurd assertion that the poor are growing poorer. I haven't read the book myself, but if that's how he talks, I should say it's great stuff!"
"Oh, that point's the thing!" rejoined Mr Wharton, pleased to dilate a little on a favorite subject. "If you grant him that, you have to grant him a great deal more. But of course it's absurd."
"Well," said Mr. Archer, his moustache parting over his white teeth, with his cynical smile—"I suppose we don't any of us live just as our ancestors did in Queen Elizabeth's time. I doubt if her majesty ever saw such a charmingly arranged dinner-table in her life!" Here he bowed toward the hostess. "But I happened to see something of the tenements of New York lately, in connection with a case which involved the proprietorship of some of them. I really think I'd rather have the Elizabethan style, so far as the laborer is concerned. But of course, all laborers don't live in rooms that would hardly be fit for a dog-kennel."
Nora's thoughts went off to the wretched apartment in which she had so lately spent the night, but she was too shy to join in a general conversation. Her brother, however, remarked tersely, that he saw some wretched enough kennels, even in Minton, and that, "if some quarters of the city were not soon looked after, they would be hearing of an outbreak of typhoid fever or diphtheria, the first thing."