s mother. He liked Phoebe, who could talk almost as if she was in
society, as girls talk in novels. He knew, of course, that she was not
in society, but she was a girl whom a fellow could get on with, who had
plenty to say for herself, who was not a lay figure like many young
ladies; and then she was pretty, pink, and golden, "a piece of colour"
which was attractive to the eye. He soon found out where she was going,
and let her know that he himself intended a visit to the neighbourhood.

"The Dorsets live near," he said. "Relations of my mother. You saw them
at the ball. I dare say you will meet them somewhere about." This, it
is to be feared, Clarence said in something of his mother's spirit, with
a warm sense of superiority, for he knew that the pastor's daughter was
very unlikely to meet the Dorsets. Phoebe, however, was equal to the
occasion.

"I am not at all likely to meet them," she said with a gracious smile.
"For one thing, I am not going to enjoy myself, but to nurse a sick
person. And sick people don't go to parties. Besides, you know the
foolish prejudices of society, properly so called. I think them foolish
because they affect me," said Phoebe, with engaging frankness. "If they
did not affect me, probably I should think them all right."

"What foolish prejudices?" said Clarence, thinking she was about to say
something about her inferior position, and already feeling flattered
before she spoke.

"About Dissenters, you know," she said; "of course, you must be aware
that we are looked down upon in society. It does not matter, for when
people have any sense, as soon as they know us they do us justice; but
of course you must be aware that the prejudice exists."

Clarence did know, and with some bitterness; for Mr. Copperhead, though
he did not care much, perhaps, about religion, cared for his chapel, and
stood by it with unswerving strictness. His son, who was an Oxford man,
and respectful of all the prejudices of society, did not like this. But
what could he do against the obstinate dissentership of his father?
This, as much as anything else, had acted upon the crowd the night of
the ball, and made them all nobodies. He hesitated to make any reply,
and his face flushed with shame and displeasure. Phoebe felt that she had
avenged upon Clarence his mother's haughty politeness. She had brought
home to him a sense of the social inferiority which was common to them
both. Having done this, she was satisfied, and