Sir W.: And Kitty doesn't care for fishing?
Jem: Not she! Though, finding myself here, surrounded with trout streams, you may imagine how I was naturally anxious to spend my days. Kitty said fishing was a bore, and after having come out with me once or twice, she sternly refused to do so any more. And why? Simply because she wanted to tramp about with the shooters from Danby.
Sir W.: All this is but a trifling dissimilarity of taste, and insufficient to cause a real estrangement.
Jem: A trifling dissimilarity! Why, our tastes differ in every essential point! Kitty has got it into her head that a woman should take an interest in things "outside herself." A friend of her mother's, who used to conduct her to the British Museum, taught her to believe in Culture—with a capital "C." To hear her talk of Pompeiian marbles, Flaxman's designs, and all that sort of thing—why, it's sickening!
Sir W.: It strikes me you are unreasonable.
Jem: Oh, no! I'm not! A woman who takes an interest in things outside herself becomes a nuisance.
SIR W.: "IT STRIKES ME YOU ARE UNREASONABLE."
JEM: "OH, NO! I'M NOT!"
Sir W.: And yet I believe that with a little tact, a little gentleness, you would be able to manage Kitty, just as I have managed your aunt all these long years. There is no doubting the dear girl's affection for you. Remember her joy when her mother's scruples as to the length of your engagement were overcome.