"Is there no high breeding then in the world?" asked good-natured Mrs. Thorn, who could be touched on this point of family.
"There is very little of it. What is commonly current under the name is merely counterfeit notes which pass from hand to hand of those who are bankrupt in the article."
"And to what serve then," said Mrs. Evelyn colouring, "the long lists of good old names which even you, Mr. Carleton, I know, do not disdain?"
"To endorse the counterfeit notes," said Mr. Carleton smiling.
"Guy you are absurd!" said his mother. "I will not sit at the table and listen to you if you talk such stuff. What do you mean?"
"I beg your pardon, mother, you have misunderstood me," said he seriously. "Mind, I have been talking, not of ordinary conformity to what the world requires, but of that fine perfection of mental and moral constitution which in its own natural necessary acting leaves nothing to be desired, in every occasion or circumstance of life. It is the pure gold, and it knows no tarnish; it is the true coin, and it gives what it proffers to give; it is the living plant ever-blossoming, and not the cut and art-arranged flowers. It is a thing of the mind altogether; and where nature has not curiously prepared the soil it is in vain to try to make it grow. This is not very often met with?"
"No indeed," said Mrs. Carleton;--"but you are so fastidiously nice in all your notions!--at this rate nothing will ever satisfy you."
"I don't think it is so very uncommon," said Mrs. Thorn. "It seems to me one sees as much of it as can be expected, Mr. Carleton."
Mr. Carleton pared his apple with an engrossed air.
"O no, Mrs. Thorn," said Mrs. Evelyn, "I don't agree with you--I don't think you often see such a combination as Mr. Carleton has been speaking of--very rarely!--but, Mr. Carleton, don't you think it is generally found in that class of society where the habits of life are constantly the most polished and refined?"