Tom came home while she slept, and in the morning was cross and
miserable--in part, because he had been so abominably selfish to
her. But the moment that, half frightened, half hopeful, she told
him where she was the night before, he broke into the worst anger
he had ever yet shown her. His shameful pride could not brook the
idea that, where he was a guest, his wife was entertained by one
of the domestics!
"How dare you be guilty of such a disgraceful thing!" he cried.
"Oh, don't, Tom--dear Tom!" pleaded Letty in terror. "It was you
I wanted to see--not the great people, Tom! I don't care if I
never see one of them again."
"Why should you ever see one of them again, I should like to
know! What are they to you, or you to them?"
"But you know I was asked to go, Tom!"
"You're not such a fool as to fancy they cared about you!
Everybody knows they are the most heartless set of people in the
world!"
"Then why do you go, Tom?" said Letty, innocently.
"That's quite another thing! A man has to cultivate connections
his wife need not know anything about. It is one of the
necessities laid on my position."
Letty supposed it all truer than it was either intelligible or
pleasant, and said no more, but let poor, self-abused, fine-
fellow Tom scold and argue and reason away till he was tired. She
was not sullen, but bewildered and worn out.
Pages:
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390