"Put me where?" Then Mr. Tappitt looked at his wife with a look that was intended to annihilate her, for the time being,—seeing that no words that he could speak had any such effect,—and he hurried out of the room without staying to wash his hands or brush his hair before he went off to preside at the meeting.
Mrs. Tappitt remained where she was for about half an hour and then descended among her daughters.
"Isn't papa going to dine at home?" said Augusta.
"No, my dear; your papa is going to dine with some friends of Mr. Hart's, the candidate who was beaten."
"And has he settled anything about the brewery?" Cherry asked.
"No; not as yet. Your papa is very much troubled about it, and I fear he is not very well. I suppose he must go to this electioneering dinner. When gentlemen take up that sort of thing, they must go on with it. And as they wish your father to preside over the petition, I suppose he he can't very well help himself."
"Is papa going to preside over the petition?" asked Augusta.
"Yes, my dear."
"I hope it won't cost him anything," said Martha. "People say that those petitions do cost a great deal of money."
"It's a very anxious time for me, girls; of course, you must all of you see that. I'm sure when we had our party I didn't think things were going to be as anxious as this, or I wouldn't have had a penny spent in such a way as that. If your papa could bring himself to give up the brewery, everything would be well."