manner, and in his turn became proportionately uncomfortable.
"Hang it all! A man marries to please himself," he said awkwardly.
"She is just the dearest girl in the world," continued Jack Chetwynd,
with warmth. "I'm not only fond of her, but proud of her too, but you
know--"
"I perfectly understand what you mean. To my idea unconventionality
is the most charming thing a woman can have. I hate the bride
manufactured out of the schoolgirl. The oppressive resemblance
between most of our friends' wives is one of the safe-guards of
society."
"What is that?" Chetwynd broke in upon his friend's speech with a
nervous start and exclamation. The hall door opened with a loud bang
and a woman's noisy laugh could be heard as a pelter of high-heeled
shoes came along the tesselated hall and then the vision of a pretty
girl at the doorway, accompanied by a man and two women.
"Hallo, Jack! You are home before me, then."
"Bella, my dear, I must introduce you to an old friend of mine:
Meynell, my wife."
Bella bowed a little coldly.
"My sister, Mr. Meynell," she said, seeing that the doctor was
looking straight over Saidie's head. "My sister, Miss Saidie
Blackall; daresay you have seen her from the front before." Then,
looking towards the open door, "Come in, come in. Jack, I think you
have already met Mr. and Mrs. Doss."
Chetwynd looked terribly annoyed; but there was no choice left for
him but to extend his hand and mutter something to the effect that he
had not had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of his wife's
friends before.
"Glad to know you, sir--not one of us--not in the profession, I
think?"
"No--er--no," responded Chetwynd feebly.
"And the 'appier you, take my tip for it. The wear and tear of the
'alls, sir, no one but a pro can estimate."
Here his wife, an over-dressed, showy individual a shade more of a
cockney than himself, interposed with a coarse laugh.
"Get along, you jolly old humbug, you! You couldn't live away from
them--could he, dear?" addressing Saidie, who was maliciously
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