Part 36 (1/2)
”Suspicious of what?” she demanded.
”Well, you see,” he said, slowly and awkwardly, turning away from her, and staring into the fire, ”it's better to be honest about it, isn't it?”
”Honest about what?”
”I don't think I'm naturally jealous,” he explained, ”but father has told me all about your--your--well, your escapade with that scoundrel, Sterne.”
”Is he a scoundrel?”
”You know nothing about him, of course, but he is just the kind of fellow that would take advantage of any service he had rendered.”
”I was not aware----”
”Of course not,” he interrupted, ”but those--well, what I call low-born people have no sense of propriety; and in these days--I am sorry to have to say it--very little reverence for their betters.”
”Well, what is all this leading to?”
”Oh, nothing in particular. Only father told me how he took some risks on your account, and I know that you are nothing if not grateful, and honestly I was half afraid lest the rascal had been in some way imposing on your good nature.”
”You are quite sure that you know this Mr. Sterne?”
”I know of him, Madeline, which is quite enough for me. Of course, I have seen him dozens of times, but he is not the kind of man I should ever think of speaking to--except of course, as I would speak to a tradesman or a fisherman.”
”Yes?”
”You see, those people who are too proud to work, and too ignorant and too poor to be gentlemen, and yet who try to ape the manners of their betters are really the most detestable people of all.”
”Is that so?”
”It is so, I can a.s.sure you. As an American you have not got to know quite the composition of our English society. But you will see things differently later on. A good, honest working man, who wears fustian, and is not ashamed of it, is to be admired, but your working cla.s.s upstart, with vulgarity bred in his bones, is really too terrible for words.”
”And is there no vulgarity in what you call the upper cla.s.ses?”
”Well, you see, the upper cla.s.ses can afford to be anything they like, if you understand.”
”You mean that they are a law unto themselves?”
”Well, yes, that is about the size of it. No one would think of criticising a duke, for instance, on a question of manners or taste.”
”Well, now, that is real interesting,” she said, with a cynical little laugh. ”It explains a lot of things that I had not seen before.”
”Then, too,” he went on, warming to his theme, ”it is largely a question of feeling. You can't explain some things; you can't say why they are wrong or right, only you feel they are so.”
”That is quite true, Gervase,” she answered, with a smile.
”For instance, I wear a monocle sometimes. Now that is quite right for a man in my position, and quite becoming.”
”Most becoming, Gervase.”
”But for Peter Day, the draper, for instance, to stand in his shop-door with a gla.s.s in his right eye would look simply ridiculous.”