"They are not fit mates for a lively girl."
"Captain, I perceive that you are difficult to please. Even for your charming ward you must not expect a miracle in the creation of a new Adam fit for this new Eve. Be reasonable, Captain Crowle." His lordship spoke so pleasantly and laughed with so much good nature that the captain was encouraged, and spoke out his mind as to an old friend.
"No, no, I want no miracle. I desire that my girl, who is a loving girl, with a heart of gold, should be wooed and married by a gentleman whom she will respect and honour—not a drinker nor a gambler nor a profligate. She will bring him a fortune which is great even for persons of quality."
My lord bowed gravely. "You are right, Captain Crowle, to entertain these opinions. Do not change them under any temptations. One would only wish that the lady may find such a mate. But, captain, remember—I say it not in an unfriendly spirit—class weds with class. Sir, they are about to begin the country dance, let us look on."
The company began to take their places.
"Captain Crowle," Lord Fylingdale pointed to the dancers, repeating his words: "Class weds with class—class dances with class. At the head of the set stands Sir Harry the Evergreen. His partner is a lady of good family. Next to them are others of good family. Those young people who are now taking their places lower down are—— What are they?"
"Two of them are the daughters of the doctor and the vicar—good girls both."
"Good girls, doubtless. But, Captain Crowle, not gentlefolk, and there, I observe, your lovely ward, Captain Crowle, takes her place modestly and last of all. Who dances with her?"
"It is young John Pentecrosse, son of our schoolmaster, mate on board one of Molly's ships. He is her playfellow. They have been together since childhood."
"Perhaps he would be more. Take care, captain—take care." So he turned away as if no longer interested in the girl. But Sam Semple remained behind.