Arthur gave an anxious glance at Aggie in her evening blouse. His mind was not set so high but what he liked to see his pretty wife wearing pretty gowns. And some of the money that was to have gone to the buying of books had passed over to the gay drapers of Camden Town and Holloway.
“You know what it means, dear? We shall have to live more carefully.”
“Oh yes, of course I know that.”
“Do you mind?”
“Mind?” She didn’t know what he was talking about, but she gave a sad, foreboding glance at the well-appointed supper-table, where coffee and mutton-chops had succeeded cocoa. For Arthur had had a rise of salary that year; and if Aggie had a weakness, it was that she loved to get him plenty of nice, nourishing things to eat.
“We sha’n’t be able to have quite so many nice things for supper. Shall you mind?”
“Of course I sha’n’t. Do you take me for a pig?” said Arthur, gayly. He hadn’t thought of it in that light. Wasn’t he always saying that it was the immaterial that mattered? But it had just come over him that pretty Aggie wouldn’t have so many pretty clothes to wear, because, of course, whatever money they could save must go to the buying of books and the maintenance of the intellectual life. For the home atmosphere was to be part of the children’s education.
“We will have lots of nice things,” said Aggie, “won’t we, when Daddy’s ship comes home?”
VI
Daddy’s ship never did come home.