Mr. Townsend himself answered his son's pointed observation, forestalling the rejoinder about to fall from his wife's lips:
"It's the way of the world, Murray, and an unjust one in many cases. Still, one can't help feeling that a man who has lived to the age of Joseph Bell without reaching a position higher than the one he holds with the Armstrong Company can't be possessed of a very unusual endowment of brains."
"I should say that depends on whether making money has been his ambition, or something else."
"He certainly hasn't achieved the something else," was Olive's comment. "Not even a decent home."
"Decent!" Murray turned on her. "It's a home worthy the name--I can tell you that! And if you refuse to call on these people that live in it, after Peter Bell saved ours over our heads, I say you 're acting like snobs!"
"Murray!" His mother spoke very sharply. Forrest laughed. He enjoyed the scene, being inclined, by his remembrance of Jane, to take his brother's side. Mr. Townsend came to the rescue.
"You are rather rough in your language, Murray, but I think you are right in your notions about the call. It's only a courtesy, surely, Eloise, to go over and make one call. You don't need to continue the acquaintance unless you wish, but I should be glad myself if you would go. It is several days now since----"
"It's a week," said Murray.
"He knows--no doubt of that!" laughed Forrest. "He's cultivated the acquaintance, anyhow. I saw him walking up the street yesterday with the pretty girl of the family."
"You walked up with her yourself the day before!" cried Shirley.