"He took the very highest honours at Cambridge," said she in reply.
Caroline smiled, and seemed to think him quite justified in looking as important as he did.
The cloth was removed. Caroline was sitting by Grindham's side. She had spoken little during dinner-time; but I had noticed that several times she had seemed fidgetty, as though she ought to say something to her neighbour. Now my wife had at that time a bad habit of speaking in a very loud voice—in consequence of a deaf father, and of the little society she had seen. The conversation, accordingly, had no sooner stopped (as is its wont) with a dead pause, than she turned to Grindham, and said in a tone of appalling distinctness—
"Mr Grindham, were you ever plucked?"
Had a trumpet been suddenly blown close to Grindham's ear, he could not have looked more thoroughly taken aback.
Caroline repeated her words with yet more frightful clearness—
"I understand that you were plucked at Cambridge."
Grindham's countenance grew purple; we had a room full of university men, and the insulting speech was overheard by all. There was a universal stare and stir; and Mrs Swetter seemed to be saying to herself, "what wild beast have I got here!"
Caroline, perceiving she had done something very much amiss, got frightened, and bent over her plate during the rest of dinner.
When the gentlemen came to the drawing-room, Mrs Swetter and she were sitting together. They had been talking, and Caroline's face was very red. Our eyes met: her look was full of contempt.