Hopkinson did not object to your interesting
yourself in this claim, and you know some of the stock--"
The lady started, and said:
"Stock! Dear Mr. Gashwiler, for Heaven's sake don't mention that hideous
name to me. Stock, I am sick of it! Have you gentlemen no other topic
for a lady?"
She punctuated her sentence with a mischievous look at her interlocutor.
For a second time I regret to say that Mr. Gashwiler succumbed. The
Roman constituency at Remus, it is to be hoped, were happily ignorant of
this last defection of their great legislator. Mr. Gashwiler instantly
forgot his theme,--began to ply the lady with a certain bovine-like
gallantry, which it is to be said to her credit she parried with a
playful, terrier-like dexterity, when the servant suddenly announced,
"Mr. Wiles."
Gashwiler started. Not so Mrs. Hopkinson, who, however, prudently and
quietly removed her own chair several inches from Gashwiler's.
"Do you know Mr. Wiles?" she asked pleasantly.
"No! That is, I--ah--yes, I may say I have had some business relations
with him," responded Gashwiler rising.
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