‘Really, Colonel,’ said the lady addressed, ‘I wish you would not use such improper language; children so easily pick up slang. You ought to be very careful. It is too bad, just as we are about to move to England, where you will take your rightful place in county society as head of our ancient family.’
‘You’re right there,’ said the Colonel to his lady in a laughing tone; ‘you’re right there, I believe. We are one of the oldest families in the country. It was one of them who was with Noah in the ark. You recollect the old epitaph—
‘“Nobles and heralds, by your leave,
Here lies what once was Matthew Prior,
The son of Adam and of Eve,
Can Bourbon or Nassau go higher?”’
‘Colonel,’ said the lady, ‘I am ashamed of you.’
‘What for, dearest?’
‘For quoting such a worldly poet. We were not allowed to read him in school. I am sure many of his poems are highly improper.’
‘Oh, then you’ve looked into him, have you?’
‘Certainly not,’ said the lady, with an affected shake of her head.
‘Then how can you condemn him?’
‘Easily enough. He was of the world. His was an unsanctified genius. He had no part or lot in the one thing needful.’