"And is young Wappinger one of the right people?"
It was with an effort that Derek made up his mind to broach this subject, but Dorothea's self-possession was not disturbed.
"Certainly," she replied, briefly, with perhaps a slight accentuation of her maiden dignity.
"I'm rather surprised at that."
"Yes; you should be," she conceded; "but I couldn't make you understand it, any more than you could make me understand banking."
"I'm not convinced of the impossibility of either," he objected, knocking the top off an egg. "Suppose you were to try."
Dorothea shook her head.
"It wouldn't be of any use. The fact is, I really don't understand it myself. What's more, I don't suppose anybody else does. Carli Wappinger belongs to the right people because the right people say he does; and there is no more to be said about it."
"I should think that Mrs. Wappinger might be a—drawback."
"Not if the right people don't think so; and they don't. They've taken her up, and they ask her everywhere; but they couldn't tell you why they do it, any more than birds could tell you why they migrate. As a matter of fact, they don't care. They just do it, and let it be."