Mr. Spence had, unluckily for the impression he was likely to create, the courage of his convictions as I well knew, and as he began to reply I felt less secure that he would not trench upon dangerous ground.
"There is a general tendency to ape foreign ideas, which is fast destroying our originality as a nation," he continued.
"Foreign ideas are often the best," said my aunt.
"We are beginning to talk and dress, and dine and give in marriage, just like all the rest of the world," he explained, without regarding her comment.
Aunt Helen looked a little blank. Then with her most stately air she said:—
"Surely you wouldn't have marriages performed before a Justice of the Peace? It destroys all their sentiment. I know a great many persons who wouldn't consider themselves married so. As to living differently, I don't know what you mean. There are people here who advocate cremation, co-operation, and that sort of thing, but one doesn't meet them in society."
"I am no judge," said Mr. Spence coolly, "for I never go into society."
"Indeed!" Aunt Helen surveyed him through her eye-glass as if he were a curious animal, and her haughtiness perceptibly increased. "Are you—eh—in business in Boston?"
"No, madam. I am a Bohemian," replied Mr. Spence, in whose eye I perceived a twinkle.
"A what? Ah, yes, of course. I understood you to say you were born in this country. And the other gentleman—eh—is he a foreigner too?"