“Then you think me extravagant in that respect,” he said. “Well, no matter, Lucy; if you are a young housekeeper, you are the dearest, sweetest-tempered little wife a man ever had. Only, love, when you order dinner, particularly a stew, just think of Mr. Hastings, will you? Let us economise in any thing but hospitality. There, now, I’ll say no more about it, I promise. Moreover, I wont tell Emily—now am I not good?”
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CHAPTER III.
“Lucy,” said Emily, “we have taken our season tickets for the Opera near the centre of the house, Nos. 22, 24. Mr. Coolidge had better take yours joining ours, so that if he happens to be engaged, or don’t want to go, or any thing, you can go with us. At any rate, it will be pleasanter to be together.”
“We are not going to take a season ticket,” said Lucy,
“Why not?” inquired Emily. “It’s cheaper, you know, than paying by the single ticket.”
“There’s no cheap way of going to the Opera,” said Coolidge, rather rudely, as Emily thought.
“It costs something, certainly,” she replied. “Every thing does. But I think it’s quite as economical as any other amusement, and much more delightful. It’s a great improvement, too, Lucy, to one’s own music; and with your voice you ought to take every opportunity of hearing good music.”
“Accomplished wives are somewhat expensive articles for a poor man,” said Tom. “A taste for music costs no trifle in these days.”
“Is a taste for yachting cheaper?” said Emily, looking at him as if she thought him a bear.