“That’s right, and as it should be,” said old Mrs. Ives in an emphatic voice. “I like to hear a young lady stand up for her good man. And how long is you wedded, dear?”
“Not long—not quite two months.”
“Aye, these are early days. You haven’t had your first quarrel, has you?”
“No; why should I ever have a quarrel?”
“Oh, they come in the best intentioned families—they’re certain to come. You’ll fret, and you’ll fume, and you’ll say ’ard things to one another, and you’ll get a little away from each other, but if you’re a sensible miss, as I take you to be by that glint in your eyes, you’ll come together again. Things will be all right if you’ll only use common sense and bear and forbear. That’s it, my dear young lady. Bear and forbear. That’s what I’d like to say to my darter, who’s lately married, but she wouldn’t hear it from me.”
“And why should she not hear it from you, for it is excellent advice?” said Barbara. “But you say you’re a stranger to these parts.”
“I come from the next county, Miss.”
“And you want to say something to me?”
“I thought I’d call in, for I’m sort of curious. Seems to me as I know your name.”
“I daresay you have heard it before. The Pelhams of Pelham Towers are well known.”