“Heavens, Henry, what a question!”
“I admit it’s crude. Theoretically, any nice girl confers a tremendous favor on the man she marries merely by so doing; man being inherently vile. But, Clara, honestly, man to man, how many nice girls one knows who would be the deuce to live with!”
Clara’s eyes twinkled. “Henry,” she said, “you’re perfectly right, of course, but man to man, do you think you’ve any right to assume that the ones who aren’t nice are any pleasanter—taken as a steady diet?”
“Well, no, if you put it like that. But, I mean—well—this Polly youngster, of whom by the way I am very fond, I don’t know why, she’s as spoiled as the deuce, has had very little education——”
“She graduated from Wellesley, so she tells me.”
“Truly? How well they cover it up these days! In my youth, you knew when a woman was well educated.”
“And avoided her. That’s why they learned to cover it up.”
“Don’t be trivial. What I mean is this. Scott is an unusual fellow. He’s brought himself up from nothing, with only a boost here and there from someone who recognized his worth. He’s rough and he’s odd, but he has a mind. He will always be a man of importance in his community.”
“I admit all that; but it doesn’t imply that he’s too good for Polly.”
“No, but after all, what does a spoiled society girl of twenty-four know about a worth-while man, anyhow?”