hums Robert, with music-hall jocularity.
A faint expression of disgust crosses Armstrong's dark face, which his wife notes with a wondering start. What does it mean? Is it possible that he, Armstrong of Kelvick, the plebeian bred, who never, according to his own admission, had familiar intercourse with gentlewomen until he married her, thinks her blue-blooded sister, Pauline Lefroy, the offspring of Bourbon chivalry, a little vulgar now and then? Is it possible that her manner, so boastfully elated, her unabashed account of her conquests, jars on him, as it does on her—Addie? If so, how much they have in common, this husband and wife, severed by nearly a score of years, by position, education, and mode of life, estranged by fate from communion of thought, from interchange of sympathy—how much in common still!
"I wish Pauline would not talk like that," she thinks, with shamefaced irritation. "I wonder she does not feel that it is unladylike, indelicate. I wonder Robert, who has such keen perception, does not try to check her, instead of backing her up."
"Yes, it is most aggravating, I must say," continues Pauline, harping on her grievance. "I can't imagine what those Arkwrights mean by it, and they such near neighbors too! I wish you, Tom, or Addie, would do something in the matter."
"I can't see what we could do, Pauline," he answers, smiling, "unless you would have us follow Thackeray's advice—go straight to head-quarters and 'ask to be asked.' It would be rather an extreme measure, but I believe it has been successful in many cases."
"Polly," says Goggles, nodding her head mysteriously, "I think I know why you weren't asked, only—only—perhaps you wouldn't like me to tell."
Pauline laughs contemptuously.
"You know, Goggles? A very likely story indeed!"
"I just do know!" answers Goggles, stung into retort. "They don't ask you, Pauline, because papa owes Major Arkwright a lot of money, which he never paid—a debt of honor, I think they call it, and—"
"What nonsense you are talking!" breaks in Robert sharply. "I never met such a senseless chatterbox as you are, Lottie—always chattering of things you know nothing about, taking the wrong end of every story."