“Do you think it profane to parody Jane Taylor?” said Gerald.
“No, but I thought it might hurt some people’s feelings, and discourage them, if we laugh at the High School.”
“Why, Dolores goes to give lectures there,” exclaimed Valetta.
“Nobody is discouraged by a little good-humoured banter,” said Gillian. “Nobody with any stuff in them.”
“There must be some training in chaff though,” said Gerald, “or they don’t know how to take it.”
“And in point of fact,” said Dolores, “the upper tradesmen’s daughters come off with greater honours in the High School than do the young gentlewomen.”
“Very wholesome for the young Philistines,” said Gerald. “The daughters of self-made men may well surpass in energy those settled on their lees.”
Gerald and Dolores were standing with their backs to the wall of Anscombe Church, which Jasper Merrifield and Mysie were zealously photographing, the others helping—or hindering.
“I thought upper tradesfolk were the essence of Philistines,” returned Dolores.
“The elder generation—especially if he is the son of the energetic man. The younger are more open to ideas.”