“‘Names!’” snorted her husband. “‘Little gentleman!’ That’s the vile epithet they called him!  And because of it he wrecks the peace of six homes!”

“SH!  Yes; he told us about it,” said Mrs. Schofield, moaning.  “He told us several hundred times, I should guess, though I didn’t count.  He’s got it fixed in his head, and we couldn’t get it out.  All we could do was to put him in the closet.  He’d have gone out again after those boys if we hadn’t.  I don’t know what to make of him!”

“He’s a mystery to me!” said her husband.  “And he refuses to explain why he objects to being called ‘little gentleman.’  Says he’d do the same thing—­and worse—­if anybody dared to call him that again.  He said if the President of the United States called him that he’d try to whip him.  How long did you have him locked up in the closet?”

“SH!” said Mrs. Schofield warningly.  “About two hours; but I don’t think it softened his spirit at all, because when I took him to the barber’s to get his hair clipped again, on account of the tar in it, Sammy Williams and Maurice Levy were there for the same reason, and they just whispered ‘little gentleman,’ so low you could hardly hear them—­and Penrod began fighting with them right before me, and it was really all the barber and I could do to drag him away from them.  The barber was very kind about it, but Penrod——­”

“I tell you he’s a lunatic!” Mr. Schofield would have said the same thing of a Frenchman infuriated by the epithet “camel.”  The philosophy of insult needs expounding.

“SH!” said Mrs. Schofield.  “It does seem a kind of frenzy.”

“Why on earth should any sane person mind being called——­”

“SH!” said Mrs. Schofield.  “It’s beyond me!”

“What are you SH-ing me for?” demanded Mr. Schofield explosively.

“SH!” said Mrs. Schofield.  “It’s Mr. Kinosling, the new rector of Saint Joseph’s.”

“Where?”

“SH!  On the front porch with Margaret; he’s going to stay for dinner.  I do hope——­”

“Bachelor, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Our old minister was speaking of him the other day,” said Mr. Schofield, “and he didn’t seem so terribly impressed.”

“SH!  Yes; about thirty, and of course so superior to most of Margaret’s friends—­boys home from college.  She thinks she likes young Robert Williams, I know—­but he laughs so much!  Of course there isn’t any comparison.  Mr. Kinosling talks so intellectually; it’s a good thing for Margaret to hear that kind of thing, for a change and, of course, he’s very spiritual.  He seems very much interested in her.”  She paused to muse.  “I think Margaret likes him; he’s so different, too.  It’s the third time he’s dropped in this week, and I——­”

“Well,” said Mr. Schofield grimly, “if you and Margaret want him to come again, you’d better not let him see Penrod.”

“But he’s asked to see him; he seems interested in meeting all the family.  And Penrod nearly always behaves fairly well at table.”  She paused, and then put to her husband a question referring to his interview with Penrod upstairs.  “Did you—­did you—­do it?”