"That is quite true, Nelly."
"And I said that Mr. Goslett is a gentleman, whatever he may pretend."
"That may be true—even though he is not a gentleman born—but that's a very different thing, my dear."
"Why is it different?"
"Because there are many ladies who go about among poor people; but no gentleman, unless it's the clergymen. Ladies seem to like it—they do it, however hard the work, for nothing—and all because it is their duty, and an imitation of the Lord. Some of them go out nursing. I have told you how I took them out to Scutari. Some of them go, not a bit afraid, into the foul courts, and find out the worst creatures in the world, and help them. Many of them give up their whole lives for the poor and miserable. My dear, there is nothing that a good woman will shrink from—no misery, no den of wickedness—nothing. Sometimes I think Miss Kennedy must be one of those women. Yes, she's got a little money, and she has come here to work in her own way among the people here."
"And Mr. Goslett, father?"
"Men don't do what women do. There may be something in what Mr. Bunker says—that he has reasons of his own for coming here and hiding himself."
"Oh, father, you don't mean it; and his own uncle, too, to say such a thing."
"Yes, his own uncle. Mr. Goslett, certainly, does belong to the place; though why Bunker should bear him so much malice is more than I can tell."
"And, father, there is another reason why he should stay here." Nelly blushed, and laughed merrily.