"Nothing more than a good, plain family dinner, and a warm welcome." "All I could ask or desire," returned Mr.Jones.
It was a few minutes to two o'clock.

The bell had rung for dinner; and I was just rising to go to the dining room, when I heard the street door open, and the sound of my husband's voice in the passage.

There was a man in company with him, for I distinctly heard the tread of a pair of feet.

What could this mean?
I remained seated, listening with attention.
My husband entered the parlor with his companion, talking in a cheerful, animated strain; and I heard him pull up the blinds and throw open the shutters.

Presently he came tripping lightly up the stairs to my sitting room.
"I've brought a friend home to dinner, Jane," said he, as coolly and as confidently as if it were not washing day; and as if he had not told me on going out, that he would dine at an eating house.
This was a little too much for my patience and forbearance.
"Are you beside yourself, Mr.Smith ?" I replied, my face instantly becoming flushed, and my eyes glancing out upon him the sudden indignation I felt at such treatment.
"Why, Jane! Jane! This is not kind in you," said my husband, with regret and displeasure in his voice.