"I can keep a thing dark, if I am given the tip," she said, with amusement that sounded a little contemptuous.
He was conscious of great annoyance.
"I give no tips. I merely say that this must not be mentioned," he said frigidly. "We will refer to it later. And now to touch upon another matter. In England the—ah—fusion of classes to which you have probably been accustomed is not desirable. The vicar's niece cannot, with propriety, be on terms of equality with a farmer like Dow."
"Oh," said Millie, "why not?"
"We are socially Mr. Dow's superiors, and we must not let him forget his place, as these Dalesmen are most apt to do."
"I should have thought," said Millie reflectively, "that they would never be likely to forget their place, so long as we were sure of ours."
The vicar again felt uncomfortable. His wife and he were well-born—people of just enough consequence to be eager that nobody should forget it; undeniably belonging to the county set, but much ignored by that set, as being poor and desperately dull.
"You see, at home we shouldn't have been socially superior to Mr. Dow," said Millie.
"You have much to learn here," returned her uncle; and as he spoke, he was inly deciding that the girl was impossible.