“As little was I prepared for the frank and open manner in which he spoke to me of himself.”
“Has he done so?” asked she, with some animation.
“Yes; with much candor, and much good sense too. He sees the obstacles he has surmounted in life, and he just as plainly perceives those that are not to be overcome.”
“What may these latter be?” asked she, cautiously.
“It is pretty obvious what they are,” said he, half pettishly,—“his family; his connections; his station, in fact.”
“How did he speak of these,—in what terms, I mean?”
“Modestly and fairly. He did not conceal what he owned to feel as certain hardships, but he was just enough to acknowledge that our social system was a sound one, and worked well.”
“It was a great admission,” said she, with a very faint smile.
“The Radical crept out only once,” said the old Lord, laughing at the recollection. “It was when I remarked that an ancient nobility, like a diamond, required centuries of crystallization to give it lustre and coherence. 'It were well to bear in mind, my Lord,' said he, 'that it began by being only charcoal.'”
She gave a low, quiet laugh, but said nothing.