“But is it a dishonest pursuit, father?”
“As the times go, not necessarily, my dear; though it may readily become so.”
“And is it disreputable, generally, with the world?”
“That depends on circumstances, Anna. When the stock-jobber loses, he is very apt to be condemned; but I rather think his character rises in proportion to his gains. But why do you ask these singular questions, love?”
I thought I heard Anna breathe harder than usual, and it is certain that she leaned far out of the window to pluck a rose.
“Why, Mrs. Norton said Jack was not invited to Sir Harry Griffin’s because his father was a stock-jobber. Do you think she was right, sir?”
“Very likely, my dear,” returned the divine, who I fancied was smiling at the question. “Sir Harry has the advantages of birth, and he probably did not forget that our friend Jack was not so fortunate—and, moreover, Sir Harry, while he values himself on his wealth, is not as rich as Jack’s father by a million or two—in other words, as they say on ’Change, Jack’s father could buy ten of him. This motive was perhaps more likely to influence him than the first. In addition, Sir Harry is suspected of gambling himself in the funds through the aid of agents; and a gentleman who resorts to such means to increase his fortune is a little apt to exaggerate his social advantages by way of a set-off to the humiliation.”
“And GENTLEMEN do really become stock-jobbers, father?”
“Anna, the world has undergone great changes in my time. Ancient opinions have been shaken, and governments themselves are getting to be little better than political establishments to add facilities to the accumulation of money. This is a subject, however, you cannot very well understand, nor do I pretend to be very profound in it myself.”
“But is Jack’s father really so very, very rich?” asked Anna, whose thoughts had been wandering from the thread of those pursued by her father.