“‘What God hath cleansed, call not thou common, or unclean’—yes! it is right! Catherine, a girl of the very humblest birth, with natural talent and acquired accomplishments that fit her for any circle—should mix with all. And, Archer, what do you mean by ‘vulgar?’ If ignoble minds, corrupt hearts, and mean actions constitute vulgarity—then I for one have met more vulgar people in so-called high-life than ever I saw in low-life!”
“My dear mother, you are a Republican—let us waive this discussion, for I dislike to differ from you, and tell me where I shall find Catherine, for she positively must return with me to White Cliffs, to bear Mrs. Georgia company, until some other companion can be procured for her.”
“Catherine is at her brother’s cabin, as I told you.”
“The same cabin he occupied before I left home?”
“Certainly.”
Major Clifton entered the gig, and turned the horse’s head towards the dell in which the overseer’s cabin stood. When he drew up before the door, Carl came out to welcome him, and invite him to alight.
“No, thank you, send Catherine hither,” he said—
Carl looked very much as though he did not intend to obey this haughty behest—but Catherine had already heard the demand, and appeared at the door.
“How-do-you-do, Kate? Mrs. Georgia Clifton is at my house, and I wish you to return with me to attend upon her. Come, get your bonnet, at once, Catherine, for I am rather hurried.”
“We cannot spare Catherine, sir,” said Carl, in a tone of displeasure.