"But there is another brother—one who paints, I believe."
"He teaches drawing in some of the schools of the neighborhood," Lady Caroline interposed, rather dryly. "I suppose you do not want drawing lessons, dear?"
"Oh, no," said Margaret, indifferently. "I only thought it seemed odd that we never met them anywhere."
"Not very suitable acquaintances," murmured Lady Caroline, almost below her breath. Mr. Adair was looking at an illustrated magazine and did not seem to hear, but, after a moment's pause, Margaret said,
"Why, mamma?"
Lady Caroline hesitated for a moment. Mr. Adair shrugged his shoulders. Then she said slowly:
"His father married beneath him, my love. Mrs. Brand is a quite impossible person. If the young men would pension her off and send her away, the County would very likely take them up. But we cannot receive the mother."
"That is another of what Sir Philip Ashley would call class-distinctions, is it not?" said Margaret, placidly. "The sort of thing which made Miss Polehampton so anxious to separate me from poor Janetta."
"Class-distinctions are generally founded on some inherent law of character or education, dear," said Lady Caroline, softly. "They are not so arbitrary as young people imagine. I hope the day will never come when the distinction of class will be done away with. I"—piously—"hope that I may be in my grave before that day comes."
"Oh, of course they are very necessary," said Margaret, comfortably. "And, if old Mrs. Brand were to go away, I suppose her sons would be received everywhere?"