“I was only thinking that I could not respond as heartily as I would like to your affection, Alys, because I hardly see that my friendship can be much good to you in the future.”
“Why?”
“Our lives are so differently placed—we are in such totally different spheres—”
“Oh! Mary,” exclaimed Alys, reproachfully, “you are not going to be proud, and refuse to know us because we are rich and you are—”
“Poor,” added Mary, smiling. “No, not on that account exactly.”
“Why, then? Is it because you suspect that at one time Laurence discouraged my knowing you? You can afford to forgive that, surely, now. And it was his duty, I suppose, to be very careful about whom I knew, having no mother or sister, you know; and at that time he did not know you.”
“No, he did not; and it was his duty, as you say, to be very careful. He did not know us, true, but at least he knew no harm of us, except that we were out of the charmed circle. And did that justify him in—Oh! Alys, dear, don’t make me speak about it. Let us be happy this little while we are together.”
“Mary, do you dislike Laurence?”
“I do not like unfounded prejudices,” replied Mary, evasively.
“That means Laurence, I suppose. But, Mary, people can outgrow their prejudices. I am not sure that you yourself are not at present partly affected by prejudice.”