"Who made it his duty?" he asked.
Mrs. Paragon never answered these rhetorical questions; and Mr. Paragon added, after a mouthful:
"There are honest jobs."
"Yes, dear; but Mr. Samuel believes in christening."
"Perhaps he does. Mr. Samuel believes that the animals went in two by two."
There was a long pause. Then Mrs. Paragon left the table to serve a large suet pudding studded with raisins.
She dealt with it in silence. Mr. Paragon, as always on these occasions when they were pulling different ways, felt as if he were trying to make waves in a pool by blowing upon the surface. He could never more than superficially ruffle the spirit of his wife. He was obscurely aware that she had inexhaustible reserves.
The meal concluded without further conversation; but, when Mr. Paragon had eaten more than was good for him, he began to feel that impulsive necessity to be generous which invariably overtook him sooner or later in his differences with Mrs. Paragon. He looked at her amiably:
"I see it like this," he said. "Mr. Samuel thinks he's right. But he's not going to stuff it into my boy. I'm an independent man, and I think for myself."
"Yes, dear," said Mrs. Paragon. "I don't know whether Mr. Samuel is right or wrong. I want to do the best for Peter."