“That is a merely middle-class prejudice. I can't imagine where you have picked it up.”
In point of fact, during Alicia's girlhood Lady Grillyer had always been at the greatest pains to preserve her daughter's innocent simplicity, as being preeminently a more marketable commodity than precocious worldliness. But if reminded of this she would probably have retorted that consistency was middle-class also.
“I have no reason to suspect anything of the sort,” the Baroness declared emphatically.
Her mother indulged her with a pitying smile and inquired—
“What other explanation can you offer? Among his men friends is there anyone likely to lead him into mischief?”
“None—at least——”
“Ah!”
“He promised me he would avoid Mr. Bunker—I mean Mr. Essington.”
The Countess started. She had vivid and exceedingly distasteful recollections of Mr. Bunker.
“That man! Are they still acquainted?”