"And he is thoroughly good, and will make a kind and appreciative husband," added Isadore.
Virginia looked scornful and contemptuous. "He's too goody-goody for me," she said, "but just like the Travillas in that, so will fit in exactly, I presume. Well, if people like to make fools of themselves, I don't see that we need be unhappy about it. We'll accept the invitation, of course, mamma?" turning to her mother; "and the next question is, what shall we wear?"
"We must make handsome dinner toilets, of course," was the reply; "for, though none but relatives and connections are to be present, it will be a large company."
"Yes, and I've no fancy for being outshone by anybody, and Aunt Rose is sure to be very elegantly attired; Cousin Rose Lacey and Cousin Horace's wife no less so. Talk of my fondness for dress! It's small compared to theirs."
"It is principally the doing of the husbands," said Isadore. "Both—or I might say all three, for Uncle Horace is no exception—are very fond of seeing their wives well dressed."
"An excellent trait in a gentleman—the determination that his nearest female relatives shall make a good appearance," remarked Mrs. Conly, significantly, glancing from father to sons.
"But the ability to bring it about is not always commensurate with the desire, mother," said Isadore.
"Thank you, Isa," said Calhoun, following her from the room, for she had risen from the table with her last words; "my mother does not seem to comprehend the difference between our circumstances and those of some of our relatives, and I am sure has no idea of the pain her words sometimes give to grandpa, Art, and myself."
"No, Cal, or she could never be so cruel," Isa answered, laying her hand affectionately on his arm and looking lovingly into his eyes. "I know that my brothers deny themselves many an innocent gratification for the sake of their mother and sisters: and Cal, I do appreciate it."
"I know you do, Isa. Now tell me what you will want for this—"