"Nothing for Tom to make such a fuss about. He's mad at me because I won't insult a gentleman who is invited to the best houses, and who is received by the most particular young ladies of my acquaintance."
"At any rate," retorted Tom, "I heard Jack Sidmore tell his sister that she was not to recognize Mr. Falconer. I have warned Gertrude that a great many people believe him to be a suspicious character, and some know him to be such, so far as women are concerned, and yet last night Gertrude accepted his company home."
"Hadn't you gone home with Delia Spaulding? Was I to come trapesing home alone?" said Gertrude by way of justification.
"Now, Gert, be fair: didn't I tell you that I'd be back immediately?"
"Yes, but I knew something about the length of your 'immediatelies' when Delia Spaulding was concerned."
"You might have had Phil Trowbridge as an escort."
"Phil Trowbridge! I hate him!" said Gertrude with such vehemence that the very line which parted her hair was crimsoned.
"Well, what's that other man done?" asked the mother, who had not lost her interest in the original question. "What do folks have against him?"
"Why, he's rented a house and set up a woman in it, and nobody knows who she is, and he won't let out a word about her. If she's an honest wife or his sister or a reputable friend, why the deuce doesn't he say so? Jack Sidmore says there isn't any doubt but that the woman is Falconer's mistress, to speak in plain English. Hang it! Gertrude can't take a hint."
"Falconer! Why, Susan, ain't that the name of the man who rented your house?" cried the mother.