“Well, Lady Shelmerdine,” said Mischief, having decided in favor of the broader way, “Phil-ipp looks at it like this—don’t you, Phil-ipp? The Rags do get on a bit, but the Waggers are generally going backwards.”
Followed an academic discussion of the Situation. A most immoral proceeding, Mother was bound to believe. Ingratitude could not further go than for the eldest son of the very last peer created by Mr. Vandeleur’s Gover’ment to go over horse, foot and artillery, to the foe.
“To what extent ought a son to suffer for the indiscretion of his father?” inquired Mischief solemnly.
Mother begged pardon; she didn’t understand. Daughter-in-law seemed unable to render the question any clearer.
At this point the Conference seemed to take a turn for the worse.
Did Mrs. Shelmerdine really suppose, said Mother in crystal tones, that young men in the position of her husband had no responsibilities to society?
Oh, yes, Mrs. Shelmerdine was quite sure they had, and that was why personally she was so glad he had decided to throw in his lot with the party of Progress.
Progress, said Mother—What, pray, is Progress?
The question was rather difficult for a young married woman to answer. But fortunately it appeared that Phil-ipp was not depending wholly upon dialectics in the coming battle.
“I am sorry to hear it,” said Mother.