“Ah! That strikes me as significant. You see, I can make a good guess at her motives; I’ve suffered from that kind of thing. She evidently considers you dangerous. Don’t you feel flattered?”
“Mrs. Colston has no cause for uneasiness; I could wish she had.”
“Then I’m glad my friends are going. It will save you trouble, Jack. A match between Miss Hurst and you is out of the question.”
“I’ve felt that, so far as my merits go, which is the best way I can put it,” said Prescott gravely. “You speak as if there were stronger reasons.”
“There are; I’m a little surprised you don’t see them. Your merits—I suppose you mean your character and appearance—should go a long way; we’ll admit that you’re a man who might have some attraction for even such a girl as Miss Hurst seems to be, if she didn’t pause to think. Unfortunately for you, however, it’s her duty to her relatives to make a brilliant match and I’ve no doubt she recognizes it. Girls of her station—you had better face the truth, Jack—never marry beneath them.”
“But a man may.”
“A fair shot,” laughed Jernyngham. “I can’t resent it. But the man generally suffers, and the price is a heavier one when the girl has to pay. There’s a penalty for breaking caste.”
“You seem to tolerate worse things in the old country.”
“Not often, after all—you hear of the flagrant offenders, and though I dare say there are others who are not found out, the bulk against whom there’s no reproach, excite no attention. But we’ll let that go. I want you to understand. You’re right, Jack; it’s your position that’s all wrong. Girls of the kind we’re considering are brought up in luxury, taught every accomplishment that’s economically useless, led to believe that every comfort they need will somehow be supplied. They’re charming in their proper environment, but it’s a cruelty to take them out of it. They’d be helpless in this grim country, where you must work for all you want and do without many things even then. Can you imagine Miss Hurst standing over a hot stove all day and spending her evenings mending your worn-out shirts?”
Prescott looked up, his face set hard.