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However strongly the artist might savor of Bohemianism, his wife was connected with certain prominent Philistines, and he had exhibited a most remarkable readiness to have them present in force. "Into the camp of Philistia itself," muttered Rangely to Bently, as they elbowed their way through the crowd. "By the great horn spoon, if there isn't Peter Calvin!
"Well," she responded, smilingly unmoved, "I'll confess that if there is one thing for which I am especially grateful to Providence it is for its having spared me the ennui of having to live in a virtuous world! But sit down, and I'll talk as if that blessing had not been granted to us. As for the salutation of Mr. Rangely which so shocked your reverence, that was part of the campaign.
"You talk about marriage like a Pagan," he heard Helen say to Rangely. "Oh, no," Fenton broke in, "he doesn't go half far enough for a Pagan. The Pagan position is that matrimony is a matter of temperament and convenience; it is essentially Philistine to consider that a marriage ceremony imposes eternal obligations." "There, Mr. Fenton," Mrs.
"She does not understand her powers herself," Mrs. Rangely said; "but she feels that it is not right to conceal her light." Maurice was too unsophisticated to understand why Mrs.
He showed no inclination to fix the limits of his walk, and made no protest as she drove under the stone archway at the entrance of Fairview. Victoria was amused and interested, and she decided that she liked Mr. Rangely. "Will you come up for tea?" she asked. "I'll send you home." He accepted with alacrity.
Miss Frances was having a very good time. Although Mrs. Staggchase had been throwing her guest and Rangely together for motives of her own, the result to Miss Merrivale had been as pleasing as if her hostess had been purely disinterested.
Miss Merrivale did feel that the company assembled was an odd one, although she lived too far away to appreciate the fact that none of the guests, with the possible exception of Rangely, were exactly what she would have been asked to dine with at home.
"It makes me sick to see the way Englishmen rake in the dollars over here." "How would you feel," asked Rangely, "if you tried to get a living by writing novels, and found the market glutted with pirated English reprints?" "Oh, novels," retorted Tom, "they are of no account any way. Modern novels are like modern investments; they are all principle and no interest."
Rangely, the tall young Englishman, had renewed his attentions assiduously, although during the interval in the garden he had found Miss Chillingham a person of discernment. "She's not going to marry that chap, is she, Miss Chillingham?" he had asked. "No," said Beatrice; "you have my word for it, she isn't." As she was leaving, Mrs.
"Discover? Isn't that a word applied to finding things by seeking?" "What of that?" "I was merely thinking that you give me credit for more leisure and more curiosity than I possess if you suppose me to have tried to find out about that article." Rangely laughed again. "Mr. Strathmore," he said with a new resolution in his tone, "will you pardon me if I am frank?
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