now very well that you're
doing it for Irene; but, for goodness gracious' sake, don't worry our
lives out, and make yourself a perfect laughing-stock before the
children."

With this modified concession from her, the quarrel closed in sullen
silence on Lapham's part. The night before the dinner came, and the
question of his gloves was still unsettled, and in a fair way to remain
so. He had bought a pair, so as to be on the safe side, perspiring in
company with the young lady who sold them, and who helped him try them
on at the shop; his nails were still full of the powder which she had
plentifully peppered into them in order to overcome the resistance of
his blunt fingers. But he was uncertain whether he should wear them.
They had found a book at last that said the ladies removed their gloves
on sitting down at table, but it said nothing about gentlemen's gloves.
He left his wife where she stood half hook-and-eyed at her glass in her
new dress, and went down to his own den beyond the parlour. Before he
shut his door he caught a glimpse of Irene trailing up and down before
the long mirror in HER new dress, followed by the seamstress on her
knees; the woman had her mouth full of pins, and from time to time she
made Irene stop till she could put one of the pins into her train;
Penelope sat in a corner criticising and counselling. It made Lapham
sick, and he despised himself and all his brood for the trouble they
were taking. But another glance gave him a sight of the young girl's
face in the mirror, beautiful and radiant with happiness, and his heart
melted again with paternal tenderness and pride. It was going to be a
great pleasure to Irene, and Lapham felt that she was bound to cut out
anything there. He was vexed with Penelope that she was not going too;
he would have liked to have those people hear her talk. He held his
door a little open, and listened to the things she was "getting off"
there to Irene. He showed that he felt really hurt and disappointed
about Penelope, and the girl's mother made her console him the next
evening before they all drove away without her. "You try to look on
the bright side of it, father. I guess you'll see that it's best I
didn't go when you get there. Irene needn't open her lips, and they
can all see how pretty she is; but they wouldn't know how smart I was
unless I talked, and maybe then they wouldn't."

This thrust at her father's simple vanity in her made him laugh; and