“Oh, nonsense!” said Mrs. Gibson, wakening up from counting the stitches in her pattern. “We shall have the young men coming to dinner pretty often, you’ll see. Your father likes them, and I shall always make a point of welcoming his friends. They can’t go on mourning for a mother for ever. I expect we shall see a great deal of them, and that the two families will become very intimate. After all, these good Hollingford people are terribly behindhand and, I should say, rather common-place.”