“No, no, my dear!” exclaimed Mr. Fothersley, deeply pained. “That is just what I complain about in you young people of the present day. You have not the social sense—you——” “Dear Arthur,” Violet cut him short ruthlessly, “don’t be a humbug with me. Your Violet has known you since she was two years old. Let us in our family circle be honest. Lord Mentmore and the Condors called on the Pithey people because Mr. Pithey has subscribed liberally to the Hunt, and you and mother have called because they did. Incidentally they will probably give us excellent dinners. All I can say is, I hope you will draw the line at the German Jews, however much money they have.” “Well, Roger,” said Mrs. North, who had kept her eyes fixed on her husband during her daughter’s diversion, “shall I call or not? Surely you are the proper person to advise me, as you have met Miss Seer.” North frowned irritably. “No, I certainly should not call,” he said, rising from the table. “She _is_ a lady, but you would have nothing in common, and I should not think she has enough money to make it worth while from the point of view Vi has put so delicately before us. That all right, Vi?” His daughter rose too, and slipped her arm through his. “Quite good for you!” she said. “And now come and smoke your cigar with me in the garden. Arthur will excuse you.” “Certainly! Certainly!” said Mr. Fothersley, who sincerely liked both husband and wife apart, and inwardly deplored the necessity that they should ever be together. He recognized the lack of fine feeling in the wife which so constantly irritated the husband, but which did not alienate Fothersley himself because his own mind moved really on the same plane, in that he cherished no finer ideals. He recognized, too, the corresponding irritation North’s total lack of the social instinct was to a woman of his wife’s particular type. Pretty, vivacious, with a passionate love of dress, show, and amusement, Mrs. North would have liked to go to a party of some sort, or give one, every day in the year. She was an admirable and successful hostess, and Mr. Fothersley was wont to declare that Mentmore would be lost without Mrs. North.