Stephen laughed. "At least admit, Tora, that from a merely practical point of view, there's something to be said for telling people things that they may find out for themselves at an uncomfortably late hour."
"Oh, I thought we were trying to get a true view of a man's—or a woman's—rights in such a case," said Tora, with lofty scorn. "But it seems I'm in a minority."
"You wouldn't be happy if you weren't, my dear. It's getting dusk, and here comes Dick back. Let's go in to tea."
Dick Dennehy often grew hot in argument, but his vexation never lasted long. Over tea he was in great spirits, and talked eagerly about a new prospect which had opened before him. The post he held as correspondent was a poor affair, ill-paid and leading to nothing. He had the chance of being appointed a leader-writer on a London daily paper—a post offering a great advance both in pay and in position. The only possible difficulty arose from his religious convictions; they might, on occasion, clash with the policy of the paper, in matters concerning education for instance.
"But they're good enough to say they think so well of me in every other way that the little matter may probably admit of adjustment."
"Now don't you go back on your theories—or really where are we?" said Stephen chaffingly.
"I won't do that; I won't do that. I should be relieved of dealing with those questions. And, Stephen, my boy, I'd have a chance of a decent place to live in and of being able to put by my old age pension."
They all entered eagerly into the discussion of these rosy dreams, and it was carried, nem. con., that Dick must build himself a 'week-end' cottage at Nether End, as near as might be to Shaylor's Patch. Perhaps Winnie could find one to suit her too!
"And we'll all sit and jaw till the curtain falls!" cried Stephen Aikenhead, expressing his idea of a happy life.
"Ye're good friends here, for all your nonsense," said Dennehy. "I'd ask no better."