Denzil Quarrier!"
A burst of cheering echoed from the drapery-laden shelves. Two
servant-girls who had come to the door intent on purchase of
hair-pins ran frightened away, and spread a report that Mr. Chown's
shop was on fire.
At dinner-time the politician was faced by his angry wife.
"I know what the end of _this_'ll be!" cried Mrs. Chown. "You're
ruining your business, that's what you're doing! Who do you think'll
come to the shop if they find it full of shouting ragamuffins?
They'll all go to Huxtable's, that's what they'll do! I've no
patience"----
"There's no need to declare _that_!" replied Mr. Chown, rolling his
great eyes at her with an expression of the loftiest scorn. "I have
known it for thirteen years. You will be so good as to attend to
your own affairs, and leave _me_ to see to _mine_! What does a woman
care for the interests of the country? Grovelling sex! Perhaps when
I am called upon to shoulder a rifle and go forth to die on the
field of battle, your dense understanding will begin to perceive
what was at stake.--Not another syllable! I forbid it! Sit down
and serve the potatoes!"
At the same hour Denzil Quarrier, at luncheon with Lilian, was
giving utterance to his feelings on the great topic of the day.
"Now is the time for women to show whether their judgment is worthy
of the least confidence.
Pages:
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190