“Clifford—really! I’d no idea you had these social views. Of course you’re quite right, dear. I’ve always been in favour of your being friends with little gentlemen. But I shouldn’t like you to be at all—what is called a snob. So long as he is a little gentleman, of course, that’s everything.”
Clifford laughed.
“I never said Pickering was a gentleman! big or little! You don’t understand, mother. I mean it’s smart to be seen with him because—oh! I can’t explain. He’s all right.”
His mother thought for a little while, then, having heard that it is right to encourage school friendships at home, so as to know under what influence your boy got, she said:
“Would you like, dear, to have this young Master Pickering to tea here one day?”
He looked up, and round the room.
“Oh no, mother; I shouldn’t care for him to come here.”
“Oh, I can’t explain exactly; it isn’t the sort of place for him.”
Lady Kellynch was positively frightened to ask why, for fear her boy should show contempt for his own home, so she didn’t go into the matter, but remarked: