But there was an interval of silence, marking general disapproval, and they all turned to look at him as at a culprit. He sat down in the vacant place much against his will, amid unfriendly or indignant looks. Even to the Bates’ family he was no longer welcome as an angel from Heaven. “I am sorry everything is cold,” said Mrs. Bates; “we waited as long as we could. But Nancy wanted her tea very badly after her journey. Here is a leg of chicken I saved for you.” “I am not hungry,” said Arthur, feeling his new alienation and separation amid all the silent party. “I will take a cup of tea, please. I had the boxes to look after.” “You might have left the boxes to take care of themselves,” said his wife; “you are not always so careful. You might have come with me when I first came home after being married. And all the people about staring; but you don’t mind. It used to be different when we were here before; but I ain’t of so much consequence now,” cried Nancy. “Wives are different from sweethearts; I see that all now.” Arthur felt a sensation of chill despair come over him in the midst of this domestic heat. He restrained himself by a strange effort and would say nothing; and, indeed, he did not feel the impulse of passion to speak. A dreary despondency took possession of him. How often he had sat there on the sofa in the corner, and felt himself happy! What was it that made the change? for Nancy had shown “tempers,” fits of caprice, uncertainty of mood before their marriage. But it had not affected him as it did now. Succour came to him, however, in an unexpected way. “I don’t approve of nagging at a man, whatever he’s done,” said Mr. Bates. “If you’ve had any tiffs honeymooning, you should have the sense to stop ’em now. If you like to quarrel in your own place, I’ll not interfere, I haven’t got the right; but don’t do it here. Your father’s house is no more than a friend’s house so far as that goes. It ain’t your place, Nancy, to expose your husband here.” “I hope I know what’s my place, as well as you or anyone,” said Nancy, growing red, and accepting the challenge. She had never been fond of restraint, and she liked it now less than ever. She gave her head a toss of defiance, entrenched as she was behind the walls of support and shelter which her mother and sisters gave, who unconditionally took her side. She flashed defiance at the other end of the table, where Arthur sat with a flush of shame on his face, and poor Mr. Bates in his crumpled white tie for his sole partisan. “I think Mr. Bates is right,” said Arthur, “and that it would be better to postpone this question till we are alone.”