and too foolish not to be somewhat
startling as well. Mr. May was aware that human nature is strangely
blind to its own deficiencies, but was it possible that any delusion
could go so far as this? He did laugh a little--just the ghost of a
laugh--at the idea. But what is the use of making any serious opposition
to such a statement? The very fact of contesting the assumption seemed
to give it a certain weight.

"Whenever this is done," said Phoebe, with serene philosophy, "I think
you may expect a revulsion of feeling. The class to which papa belongs
is very friendly to the Established Church, and wishes to do her every
honour."

"Is it indeed? We ought to be much gratified," said Mr. May.

Phoebe gave him a quick glance, but he composed his face and met her look
meekly. It actually diverted him from his pre-occupation, and that is a
great deal to say.

"We would willingly do her any honour; we would willingly be friends,
even look up to her, if that would please her," added Phoebe, very
gravely, conscious of the importance of what she was saying; "but when
we see clergymen, and common persons also, who have never had one
rational thought on the subject, always setting us down as ignorant and
uncultured, because we are Dissenters----"

"But no one does that," said Ursula, soothingly, eager to save her new
friend's feelings. She paused in the act of pouring out the children's
second cup of tea, and looked up at her with eyes full of caressing and
flattering meaning. "No one, at least, I am sure," she added, faltering,
remembering suddenly things she had heard said of Dissenters, "who knows
_you_."

"It is not I that ought to be thought of, it is the general question.
Then can you wonder that a young man like the gentleman we were talking
of, clever and energetic, and an excellent scholar (and very good in
philosophy, too--he was at Jena for two or three years), should be made
bitter when he feels himself thrust back upon a community of small
shopkeepers?"

Mr. May could not restrain another short laugh.

"We must not join in the vulgar abuse of shopkeepers," he said.

Phoebe's colour rose. She raised her head a little, then perceiving the
superiority of her former position, smiled.

"I have no right to do so. My people, I suppose, were all shopkeepers to
begin with; but this gives me ways of knowing. Grandpapa is very kind
and nice--really nice, Mr. May; but he has not at all a wide way of
looking at things.