Candish was wounded by the most faint suspicion of
anything like trifling with sacred things.
"My husband is utterly abandoned, as you see, Mr. Candish," said Edith,
coming to the rescue, as she always did when Arthur showed signs of
baiting the rector. "Is the decision made in regard to the _America_?"
she continued, turning to Mr. Hubbard, by way of changing the subject.
"Yes," he answered, "the commission is to be given to Orin Stanton."
"Orin Stanton?" asked Kent. "Who is he?"
"Oh, he," returned Fenton, "is a man that had the misfortune to be born
with a wooden toothpick in his mouth instead of a silver spoon."
"Is he Irish?"
"No, but he ought to be to have won favor in the sight of a committee
appointed by the Boston City Government."
"Come," said Helen; "that is rather severe when Mr. Hubbard is on the
committee."
"Oh, I don't mind," returned Hubbard. "I know Fenton wouldn't lose a
chance of having his fling at the Irish."
"Well," Fenton explained, defensively, "I am always irritated at the
pity of the United States having expended so much blood and treasure to
free itself from the dominion of the whole of Great Britain simply to
sink into dependence upon so insignificant a part of that kingdom as
Ireland."
"Mercy!" exclaimed Miss Penwick. "What extreme sentiments!"
They smiled at the old lady's words, and then Edith went back to the
statue.
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