Ethelyn had not pleased him at all, notwithstanding that she had been unquestionably the reigning belle of the party--the one whose hand was claimed in every dance, and whose company was sought in every ride and picnic.

Marcia Fenton and Ella Backus faded into nothingness when she was near, and they laughingly complained to Richard that his wife had stolen all their beaux away, and they wished he would make her do better.
"I wish I could," was his reply, spoken not playfully, but moodily, just as he felt at the time.
He was not an adept in concealing his feelings, which generally showed themselves upon his face, or were betrayed in the tones of his voice, and when he spoke as he did of his wife the two young girls glanced curiously at each other, wondering if it where possible that the grave Judge was jealous.

If charged with jealousy Richard would have denied it, though he did not care to have Ethelyn so much in Harry Clifford's society.

Richard knew nothing definite against Harry, except that he would occasionally drink more than was wholly in accordance with a steady and safe locomotion of his body; and once since they had been at the Stafford House, where he also boarded, the young lawyer had been invisible for three entire days.

"Sick with a cold" was his excuse when he appeared again at the table, with haggard face and bloodshot eyes; but in the parlor, and halls, and private rooms, there where whispers of soiled clothes and jammed hats, and the servants bribed to keep the secret that young lawyer Clifford's boots were carried dangling up to No.