The Honorable Budlong Dinks watched the result of the illustration with deep interest, and shook his head gravely when he saw that the stone was thoroughly drenched by the salivary cascade. He seemed to feel the force of the argument. But he was not in a position to commit himself.
“Now, I think,” said the Honorable B.J. Ele, “that it is the only thing that can save the country.”
“Ah! you do,” said the Honorable B. Dinks.
And so they kept it up day after day, pausing in the intervals to smile at the ardor with which the women played their foolish game of gossip and match-making.
When Mrs. Dinks withdrew from her idle employments to the invigorating air of the Honorable B.‘s society, he tapped her cheek sometimes with his finger—as he had read great men occasionally did when they were with their wives in moments of relaxation from intellectual toil—asked her what would become of the world if it were given up to women, and by his manner refreshed her consciousness of the honor under which she labored in being Mrs. Budlong Dinks.
The weaker vessel smiled consciously, as if he very well knew that was the one particular thing which under no conceivable circumstances could she forget.
“Budlong, I really think Alfred ought to keep a horse.”
“My dear!” replied the Honorable B., in a tone of mingled reproach, amusement, contempt, and surprise.
“Oh! I know we can’t afford it. But it would be so pleasant if he could drive out his cousin Hope, as so many of the other young men do. People get so well acquainted in that way. Have you observed that Bowdoin Beacon is a great deal with her? How glad Mrs. Beacon would be!” Mrs. Dinks took off her cap, and was unpinning her collar, without in the least pressing her request. Not at all. His word was enough. She had evidently yielded the point. The horse was out of the question.
Now the state of the country did not so entirely engross her husband’s mind, that he had not seen all the advantage of Hope’s marrying Alfred.