"Mamma doesn't play, and you don't play; and I don't see what's the use of it. It won't make anybody like music to hear four pianos all going at the same time, and all of them out of tune."
"You must not tell them in Gower Street, Mr Rubb, that Susanna talks like that," said Miss Mackenzie.
"Yes, you may, Mr Rubb. But you must tell them at the same time that I am quite happy, and that Aunt Margaret is the dearest woman in the world."
"I'll be sure to tell them that," said Mr Rubb. Then he went away, pressing Miss Mackenzie's hand warmly as he took his leave; and as soon as he was gone, his character was of course discussed.
"He's quite a different man, aunt, from what I thought; and he's not at all like old Mr Rubb. Old Mr Rubb, when he comes to drink tea in Gower Street, puts his handkerchief over his knees to catch the crumbs."
"There's no great harm in that, Susanna."
"I don't suppose there's any harm in it. It's not wicked. It's not wicked to eat gravy with your knife."
"And does old Mr Rubb do that?"
"Always. We used to laugh at him, because he is so clever at it. He never spills any; and his knife seems to be quite as good as a spoon. But this Mr Rubb doesn't do things of that sort."
"He's younger, my dear."