h, damn!" George said forcibly, again.
"What does your mother propose to do?" he asked Mary some hours later,
when the rather unsuccessful dinner was over, Mamma had retired, and he
and his wife were in their own rooms. Mary felt impending
unpleasantness in his tone, and battled with a rising sense of
antagonism. She tucked her pink hat into its flowered box, folded the
silky tissue paper about it, tied the strings.
"Why, I don't know, dear!" she said pleasantly, carrying the box to her
wardrobe.
"Does she plan to stay here?" George asked, with a reasonable air,
carefully transferring letters, pocket-book, and watch-case from one
vest to another.
"George, when does Mamma ever plan ANYTHING!" Mary reminded him, with
elaborate gentleness.
There was a short silence. The night was very sultry, and no air
stirred the thin window-curtains. The room, with its rich litter of
glass and silver, its dark wood and bright hangings, seemed somehow hot
and crowded. Mary flung her dark cloud of hair impatiently back, as she
sat at her dressing table. Brushing was too hot a business tonight.
"I confess I think I have a right to ask what your mother proposes to
do," George said presently, with marked politeness.
"Oh, Georgie! DON'T be so ridiculous!" Mary protested impatiently. "You
know what Mamma is!"
"I may be ridiculous," George conceded, magnificently, "but I fail to
see--"
"I don't mean that," Mary said hastily. "But need we decide tonight?"
she added with laudable calm. "It's so HOT, dearest, and I am so
sleepy. Mamma could go to Beach Meadow, I suppose?" she finished
unthinkingly.
This was a wrong move. George was disappearing into his dressing-room
at the moment, and did not turn back. Mary put out all the lights but
one, turned down the beds, settled on her pillows with a great sigh of
relief. But George, returning in a trailing wrapper, was mighty with
resolution.
"I mean to make just one final remark on this subject, Mary," said
George, flashing on three lights with one turn of the wrist, "but you
may as well understand me. I mean it! I don't propose to have your
mother at Beach Meadow, not for a single night--not for a day! She
demoralizes the boys, she has a very bad effect on the nurse. I
sympathize with Miss Fox, and I refuse to allow my children to be given
candy, and things injurious to their constitutions, and to be kept up
until late hours, and to have their first perceptions of honor and
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