"Oh, father! indeed, you must not mind mother. She is joking. Mr. Leigh never said or meant anything of the kind." She had grown red and very uncomfortable.
Her father sat back in his chair and said in a bantering tone, under which the note of seriousness could be heard:
"You know I am not a bigot. But I will have no professional-beauty nonsense, for three reasons: First, because professional beauties are played out; they are no longer the rage--that reason would be sufficient with average people. Second, and more important, it isn't, and wasn't, and never can be good form to be a professional beauty; and third," he hesitated and looked fondly at his daughter, "and third--confound it, my girl is too good-looking to be mentioned in the same breath as any of these popular beauties."
"Bravo, sir," said Hanbury, as he got up to open the door for Mrs. Ashton and Dora, who had risen to leave the room.
When the two men were left alone, Mr. Ashton said:
"This Leigh is, I assume, one of the people?"
"Yes," said Hanbury, who wished Leigh and all about him at the bottom of the Red Sea. "But, he is not, you know, one of the horny-handed sons of toil. He is a man of some reading, and intelligence, and education, but rather vulgar all the same."
"All right. I'm sure if he is your friend he must be an excellent fellow, my dear Hanbury; and if you put him up for this constituency, I'll vote for him, no matter what his principles are. That is," he added thoughtfully, "if I have a vote. But, for the present, my dear fellow, I'll tell you what we'll do with him--we'll let him alone--that is, if you don't mind doing so."
"I shall do so with great pleasure. I have had quite enough of him for to-day," said the other, greatly relieved.
"All right. Hanbury, I shall let you into a secret. I don't care for people who aren't nice. I prefer nice people. I like people like my wife and Dora, and your mother and yourself."