“And the gentleman who sat next her at dinner?” asked he.
“A neighbor,—that is, the son of one of our borough people. I have not introduced him to you; for, of course, you are not likely to meet again. As you were remarking, awhile ago, society in England is gradually undergoing that change which in France was accomplished in a year or two.”
“With the aid of the guillotine and the 'lanterne,'” said Jack, smiling.
“Just so; they used sharp remedies for a quick cure. But I own to you that I have not yet reconciled myself, nor do I see how I shall ever reconcile myself, to intimacy with a class not only whose habits and instincts, but whose very natures are adverse to our own. That young man now, for instance, they speak of him as quite a college wonder. I'm ashamed to say I don't know wherein his great successes lie; but they tell me that he has distanced every competitor of his day, and stands alone in his preeminence, and yet we saw him to-day not venturing on a remark, nor even hazarding an opinion on the topics we talked of, and silent where he ought to have been heard with advantage.”
“Is he bashful?” said Jack, with a lazy drawl.
“I don't think it's that; at least, not altogether.”
“Supercilious, perhaps?”
“Oh! certainly not,” replied she, hastily. “The company in which he found himself is the best answer to that. He could not presume—”
“It was, then, downright fear,” broke in Massingbred; “the terror that even clever men cannot even shake off when thrown amongst a class they're unused to.”
“And very naturally so. I'm sure he must be puzzled to imagine why he is here. Indeed, we have only known him a few days back. It was one of Mr. Martin's sudden caprices to ask him to Cro' Martin. He fancied he ought to conciliate—I believe that's the phrase in vogue—the borough people, and this young man's father is the chief of them.” And now Lady Dorothea turned from the topic as one unworthy of further thought, and entered upon the more congenial theme of her own high relatives and connections in England. It was strange enough that Massing-bred's remote alliance with her family was sufficient to induce an intimacy and familiarity with him which years of mere acquaintanceship could not have effected. That his grand-aunt had been a Conway, and his great-grandfather's half-brother was married to a Jernyngham, were all a species of freemasonry by which he was admitted at once to the privilege of confidential discussion.