In fact, she could not help making comparisons between the noisy, and to her, almost vulgar visitors at the table; or at the evening parties of the rich in the neighbourhood, and the quiet refinement and dignity of such gatherings at the homes of her mother's relations.
Something akin to Mary's thoughts was passing through her father's mind before he answered her question, and influenced his reply.
"Mr. Drummond told me to-day that he did not expect more than six or eight guests in addition to his own family. And, Mary," he continued, "you need not fear meeting coarseness or vulgarity at Mr. Drummond's table. Your mother has readily consented to accompany us, and that is a sufficient proof that she considers the friends of Mrs. Drummond fit associates for her daughter."
"Oh, papa," said Mary, "I hope you do not think it was pride that made me speak as if I did not wish to go, only I do dread a large number of people; and papa——" But Mary paused; she hesitated, with the delicacy of a refined mind, to speak of the coarse flattery to which she had been subjected at one dinner-party by some of the gentlemen when they left the dining-room.
"And what, my dear?" said her father, gently.
"I told mamma," she replied, "when I came home, but I only meant to ask you whether some of the gentlemen at Mr. Ward's dinner party had not taken too much wine."
A flush of indignation rose to Mr. Armstrong's brow as he thought of what, under such circumstances, some of them might have said to his gentle daughter. Determining to ask her mother, however, he merely said,—"I fear such was the case, Mary, but you are not likely to meet with anything of that kind at the Drummonds'. The practice of staying for hours after dinner, drinking wine, till men make themselves unfit for the company of ladies, is happily becoming less frequent in good society. And now," he added, looking at his watch, "we must canter for awhile, or we shall be late for dinner."