"My dear little sister, I should have vexed mother if I had come down at six. She is out of temper with me, and so is my father, simply because I desire to get a little education, to fit me for my position here, you know, when I come into the place."
"Oh, Melville, you have had every advantage; you ought to know everything. But Aunt Letitia was quite right—the money spent upon you at Oxford was wasted."
"Thanks for your high opinion. I ought to be vastly grateful for it. But to speak of other things: I have bidden a friend to stay here for a week. He will like country air, and to drink milk and curds-and-whey. He arrives at Wells by the Bath mail; and I shall drive in with you and my father, and hire a post-chaise at the Swan to bring him out."
"I hope he is not a fine gentleman," Joyce said.
"He is a very fine gentleman indeed," was the answer; "and, Joyce, persuade mother not to put on that big bib, and make herself look like a housekeeper. It will appal Arundel, and make him feel out of his element."
"If he is to feel that, what does he come for?" Joyce said, angrily. "We want no upstarts here."
"Upstarts! that is fine talking. Arundel comes of one of the oldest families in England. Not older than ours; though, unhappily, we live as if we had sprung from the gutter, and do not get any proper respect."
"Respect!" exclaimed Joyce, indignantly. "Respect! As if father were not respected as a justice! and as if you——" Joyce stopped; she felt too indignant to go on.
"My dear little sister," Melville said, with a grand air of pity—"my dear little sister, you are only ignorant. If you knew a little more of the habits and customs of the higher classes, you would not talk so foolishly."
"I do not wish to know more about them if you have got your habits from associating with them."