“No doubt they do,” answered Mrs. Dumaresq with energy. “No doubt, if they could, they would have all the aristocracy beheaded. As my dear friend, the Baroness de la Veille Roche, once said to me, ‘My darling Mimi, the canaille would wade in our blood if they dared.’”
“I doubt it,” said Miss Stott stolidly; “people are not as bloodthirsty as that, even if they are Radicals or Socialists. After all, human beings are very much alike in the grain whatever their rank, and none of us would care particularly to wade in blood.”
“Alike!” echoed Mrs. Dumaresq. “My dear Miss Stott, you are mistaken. Between the upper and the lower classes there is the greatest possible difference. They have not our sensitiveness, our refinement, our delicacy.” Mrs. Dumaresq said “our” to show she knew her manners, and to accentuate her diplomatic training.
“Do you think not?” queried Miss Stott. “Of course they have not external refinement, nor the advantages of education. But do you really think they are less sensitive, less delicate in their own way? Why, every day there are cases in the paper that seem to show Belgravia and Whitechapel are very much alike when their blood is up. The chief difference to me appears to be that the one does things and does not talk of them, while the other talks of them but does not do them.”
“My dear Miss Stott!” remonstrated Mrs. Dumaresq.
“Yes,” said Miss Stott, “why only to-day I read the account of an action taken by a servant against her mistress, a wealthy woman, who broke her fan on her maid’s shoulder.”
“How shocking!” said Mrs. Dumaresq. “But you must not judge the aristocracy by such persons. The woman, though she may have been rich, could not possibly have been a lady.”
“So I think,” replied Miss Stott; “no doubt, however, she considered herself one, for she was an Earl’s daughter.”
“Oh—h!” said Mrs. Dumaresq, with great surprise. “Then the maid must have been very provoking.”
A rattle of teacups announced the arrival of coffee.