“I should have liked it excessively myself, Anna,” I answered; “more particularly as you seem to have so much enjoyed the fun.”
“Yes, but that COULD NOT BE” interrupted Miss-Mrs. Norton, the governess. “For Sir Harry Griffin is very difficult about his associates, and you know, my dear, that Mr. Goldencalf, though a very respectable young man himself, could not expect one of the oldest baronets of the county to go out of his way to invite the son of a stock-jobber to be present at a fete given to his own heir.”
Luckily for Miss-Mrs. Norton, Dr. Etherington had walked away the moment his daughter ended her recital, or she might have met with a disagreeable commentary on her notions concerning the fitness of associations. Anna herself looked earnestly at her governess, and I saw a flush mantle over her sweet face that reminded me of the ruddiness of morn. Her soft eyes then fell to the floor, and it was some time before she spoke.
The next day I was arranging some fishing-tackle under a window of the library, where my person was concealed by the shrubbery, when I heard the melodious voice of Anna wishing the rector good morning. My heart beat quicker as she approached the casement, tenderly inquiring of her parent how he had passed the night. The answers were as affectionate as the questions, and then there was a little pause.
“What is a stock-jobber, father?” suddenly resumed Anna, whom I heard rustling the leaves above my head.
“A stock-jobber, my dear, is one who buys and sells in the public funds, with a view to profit.”
“And is it thought a PARTICULARLY disgraceful employment?”
“Why, that depends on circumstances. On ’Change it seems to be well enough—among merchants and bankers there is some odium attached to it, I believe.”
“And can you say why, father?”
“I believe,” said Dr. Etherington, laughing, “for no other reason than that it is an uncertain calling—one that is liable to sudden reverses—what is termed gambling—and whatever renders property insecure is sure to obtain odium among those whose principal concern is its accumulation; those who consider the responsibility of others of essential importance to themselves.”