“I affected not to hear, hoping he would not expose himself before the servants by a repetition of the request. But he went on, 'Will your Ladyship' I assure you he said that 'will your Ladyship do me the honor to drink wine with me?' I merely stared at him, but never took any notice of his speech. Would you believe it? he returned to the charge again, and with his hand on his wine-glass, began, 'I have taken the liberty' I could n't hear more; so I turned to George, and said, 'George, will you tell that man not to do that?'”
Sir Stafford could not restrain himself any longer, but broke out into a burst of hearty laughter. “Poor Prichard,” said he, at last, “I almost think I see him before me!”
“You never think of saying, 'Poor Hester, these are not the associates you have been accustomed to live with!' But I could be indifferent to all these if my own family treated me with proper deference. As for Sydney and George, however, they have actually coventried me; and although I anticipated many sacrifices when I married, this I certainly never speculated upon. Lady Wallingcroft, indeed, warned me to a certain extent of what I should meet with; but I fondly hoped that disparity of years and certain differences, the fruits of early prejudices and habits, would be the only drawbacks on my happiness; but I have lived to see my error!”
“The event has, indeed, not fulfilled what was expected from it,” said Sir Stafford, with a slow and deliberate emphasis on each word.
“Oh, I comprehend you perfectly,” said she, coloring slightly, and for the first time displaying any trait of animation in her features. “You have been as much disappointed as I have. Just what my aunt Wallingcroft prophesied. 'Remember,' said she, and I 'm sure I have had good cause to remember it, 'their ideas are not our ideas; they have not the same hopes, ambitions, or objects that we have; their very morality is not our morality!'”
“Of what people or nation was her Ladyship speaking?” asked Sir Stafford, mildly.
“Of the City, generally,” replied Lady Hester, proudly.
“Not in ignorance, either,” rejoined Sir Stafford; “her own father was a merchant in Lombard Street.”
“But the family are of the best blood in Lancashire, Sir Stafford.”
“It may be so; but I remember Walter Crofts himself boasting that he had danced to warm his feet on the very steps of the door in Grosvenor Square which afterwards acknowledged him as the master; and as he owed his wealth and station to honest industry and successful enterprise, none heard the speech without thinking the better of him.”