“Not at all,” answers Mrs. Hudson, slightly ruffled at the misapprehension. “The soup is too thick.”
Whereupon Mr. Hancock, who has been eating quite comfortably up to the present moment, takes to stirring round and round his plate with reproachful sweeps of the spoon, till his wife inquires soothingly,—
“Don’t you think we might try some of that Glucose Bread we saw advertised, Ducky? I’m sure Mrs. Graham would get it for you.”
The Hancocks are young, and recently married. He is a bank clerk with poppy eyes; she is small, and plump, and pretty. They are “Ducky” and “Dovie” to each other,—but they are really nice and considerate, so one feels rather shabby to poke fun.
However, to return to Mrs. Bo-gardus. It was not only what she could not eat. She had a great many opinions as well, especially as to how people “in reduced circumstances” should live.
“Mrs. Bo-gardus thinks that if you can only afford one servant you should certainly engage two, for there is nothing that pays so well as style.”
She also “thought” a great many other things,—I can’t pause to relate them here,—and no matter how patently absurd her opinions might be, they were reported as such Delphic utterances that no one dreamed of questioning them.
Every fortnight or so Mrs. Hudson has been in the habit of paying Mrs. Bo-gardus a call. One always learned at the breakfast table when one of these visits was about to take place, for Mrs. Hudson dressed for them upon rising, no matter what time of day she may have planned to start, in a purple velvet walking-suit, with white linen collar and cuffs, and a very much crimped blond false front. Her own hair is decidedly gray. When she goes to church, or shopping with Miss Brown, or even to the theatre, this answers. It is only for Mrs. Bo-gardus the blond crimps appear.
Naturally this morning when Mrs. Hudson descended upon us “in full panoply of war-paint,” as Haze expressed it, we supposed she must be going to pay one of her ceremonial visits. Both mother and I felt relieved, for the house continued cold despite all our efforts; but we made no remark, and Mrs. Hudson volunteered no information till Rose appeared, rather untidy as to dress and apron, bearing a plate of slightly burned biscuits. Then it began.
“Mrs. Bo-gardus’s establishment consists of three maids and an imported butler. His name is Samuels,—with an s, if you please, Miss Brown. One can judge from that fact alone of the style to which she is accustomed.”