"Yet it is sometimes a pleasant word," said Thrasher, forgetting her presence in thoughts of another.
"A pleasant word, Nelson?"
"Pleasant!-did I say so? How strange that one's tongue will make such blunders."
Katharine was thoughtful for a moment. Something in her husband's manner brought back the feelings she had experienced at Mrs. Mason's house the night before. Vague spasms of jealousy, that culminated in a sharp pang when she remembered that the beautiful woman who had almost taunted her, was a widow now.
"Nelson," she said, awaking from her grief, for there was something of indignation mingled with it now, "last night I was at Mrs. Mason's."
"Indeed? Have you visited her often?"
"Only when I went to get news of the ship; for I don't much like her."
"Indeed?"
"No; she hurts one's feelings without meaning it, I dare say. Her haughtiness keeps every one at a distance."
Thrasher turned his face away, to conceal the proud smile that broke over it. He longed to defend the haughtiness of which Katharine complained—to say that it was the birthright of Ellen's great superiority over all other women. But he checked the impulse and only answered: