“Well, is she not?” Mrs. Dainty looked steadily into the eyes of Mr. Fleetwood, with an expression that said, My question settles that proposition.
“In what is she inferior?” asked Uncle John.
“Your question is absurd, and annoys me,” replied Mrs. Dainty, with sudden feeling.
“Let us put all excitement away, Madeline,” said the old man. “It dims perception; and too much is involved just now for either reason or perception to be under a cloud. My question is not absurd, but one upon the right answer to which hang, just now, momentous things. In what, then, is Florence inferior to your children? Is her mind less pure, her intellect of a lower range, her tastes less cultivated, her accomplishments defective in comparison, her love of truth, her honor, her sense of religious duty, below that of your children?”
“She belongs to a lower grade in society,” answered Mrs. Dainty. “And she is, in this family, only as a hireling.”
“Madeline!” (Uncle John’s feelings betrayed him into more excitement than he wished to exhibit,) “if you had the wealth of a Rothschild, you could not buy her services! I No money-consideration has led her back to this house; and I question much whether she will accept pay for any service she renders.”
“Then,” said Mr. Dainty, speaking for the first time, “she cannot remain. I will have no one’s labor as a gratuity. We are not paupers!”
“If you can supply her place to the children,” was Uncle John’s reply, “she will step aside, pleased, I am sure, to retire from a position in which she is so poorly appreciated.”
“I value her in her place,” said Mr. Dainty,—“value her beyond all price. Amount of compensation need be no barrier to her remaining with the children. But if she demand an equality of position with us the case is settled at once.”
“You put my own thoughts into words,” said Mrs. Dainty.