“Your father says it's very unusual for such a young man to be in a place like his. Mr. Witherby really leaves everything to him, he says.”
“Well, I think he'd better not, then! The Events has got to be perfectly horrid, of late. It's full of murders and all uncleanness.”
“That seems to be the way with the papers, nowadays. Your father hears that the Events is making money.”
“Why, mother! What a corrupt old thing you are! I believe you've been bought up by that disgusting interview with father. Nestor of the Leather Interest! Father ought to have turned him out of doors. Well, this family is getting a little too good, for me! And Ben's almost as bad as any of you, of late,—I haven't a bit of influence with him any more. He seems determined to be friendlier with that person than ever; he's always trying to do him good,—I can see it, and it makes me sick. One thing I know: I'm going to stop Mr. Hubbard's calling me Olive. Impudent!”
Mrs. Halleck shifted her ground with the pretence which women use, even amongst themselves, of having remained steadfast. “He is a very good husband.”
“Oh, because he likes to be!” retorted her daughter. “Nothing is easier than to be a good husband.”
“Ah, my dear,” said Mrs. Halleck, “wait till you have tried.”
This made Olive laugh; but she answered with an argument that always had weight with her mother, “Ben doesn't think he's a good husband.”
“What makes you think so, Olive?” asked her mother.
“I know he dislikes him intensely.”