It was perhaps the first time in his life Mr.Joseph had sat at the same table with a lady; for Mr.John Heron had married beneath him, and for money; and in retiring from the bar, at which he had been an obvious failure, had sunk down to the society of his wife's class.
"I have seen so little of it," replied Ida.

"I have only passed through London twice, on my way from France to Herondale, and from Herondale here." Mr.Joseph was duly impressed by the sound of Herondale.
"Oh, you must tell me all about your old home," he said, with an air of overconfidence to conceal his nervousness; "and we must show you about London a bit; it's a tidy little place." He grinned with an air of knowingness, and seemed rather disconcerted that Ida did not return his smile.
"Shall I give you some water, Ida ?" said Mr.Heron.

"I regret that I cannot offer you any wine.

We have no intoxicants in the house.

We are all total abstainers, on principle." The other members of the family looked down uncomfortably, and, to Ida's surprise, as if they were ashamed.
"Thank you," she said; "I do not care for wine." "I am afraid there are a great many things you will miss here," said Mr.Heron.