The manner in which this was said precluded all taking offence.
"Well," said Charlton shrugging his shoulders,--"then I don't know what pride is--that's all!"
"Take care, Capt. Rossitur," said Fleda laughing,--"I have heard of such a thing as American pride before now."
"Certainly!" said Charlton, "and I'm quite willing--but it never reaches quite such a towering height on our side the water."
"I am sure I don't know how that may be," said Fleda, "but I know I have heard a lady, an enlightened, gentle-tempered American lady, so called,--I have heard her talk to a poor Irish woman with whom she had nothing in the world to do, in a style that moved my indignation--it stirred my blood!--and there was nothing whatever to call it out. 'All the blood of all the Howards,' I hope would not have disgraced itself so."
"What business have you to 'hope' anything about it?"
"None--except from the natural desire to find what one has a right to look for. But indeed I wouldn't take the blood of all the Howards for any security--pride as well as high-breeding is a thing of natural not adventitious growth--it belongs to character, not circumstance."
"Do you know that your favourite Mr. Carleton is nearly connected with those same Howards, and quarters their arms with his own?"
"I have a very vague idea of the dignity implied in that expression of 'quartering arms,' which comes so roundly out of your mouth, Charlton," said Fleda laughing. "No, I didn't know it. But in general I am apt to think that pride is a thing which reverses the usual rules of architecture, and builds highest on the narrowest foundations."
"What do you mean?"