No one could doubt of his having kept his pledge, although his wife occupied herself with books and notions and subjects foreign to his taste--his understanding, too, he owned.

And Redworth had approved of his retirement, had a contempt for soldiering.
'Quite as great as yours for civilians, I can tell you,' Sir Lukin said, dashing out of politics to the vexatious personal subject.

Her unexpressed disdain was ruffling.
'Mr.Redworth recommends work: he respects the working soldier,' said Diana.
Sir Lukin exclaimed that he had been a working soldier; he was ready to serve if his country wanted him.

He directed her to anathematize Peace, instead of scorning a fellow for doing the duties next about him: and the mention of Peace fetched him at a bound back to politics.

He quoted a distinguished Tory orator, to the effect, that any lengthened term of peace bred maggots in the heads of the people.
'Mr.Redworth spoke of it: he translated something from Aristophanes for a retort,' said Diana.
'Well, we're friends, eh ?' Sir Lukin put forth a hand.
She looked at him surprised at the unnecessary call for a show, of friendship; she touched his hand with two tips of her fingers, remarking, 'I should think so, indeed.' He deemed it prudent to hint to his wife that Diana Merion appeared to be meditating upon Mr.Redworth.
'That is a serious misfortune, if true,' said Lady Dunstane.