ve had friends of a better kind?'

'A different way?--I understand. You mean I ought to have had a big
house, and made a show. Isn't that it?'

'You gave us a good education,' replied Nancy, still in the same tone,
'and we might have associated with very different people from those you
have been speaking of; but education alone isn't enough. One must live
as the better people do.'

'Exactly. That's your way of thinking. And how do you know that I could
afford it, to begin with?'

'Perhaps I oughtn't to have taken that for granted.'

'Perhaps not. Young women take a good deal for granted now a-days. But
supposing you were right, are you silly enough to think that richer
people are better people, as a matter of course?'

'Not as a matter of course,' said Nancy. 'But I'm quite sure--I know
from what I've seen--that there's more chance of meeting nice people
among them.'

'What do you mean by "nice"?' Mr. Lord was lying back in his chair, and
spoke thickly, as if wearied. 'People who can talk so that you forget
they're only using words they've learnt like parrots?'

'No. Just the contrary. People who have something to say worth listening
to.'

'If you take my advice, you'll pay less attention to what people say,
and more to what they do. What's the good of a friend who won't come to
see you because you live in a small house? That's the plain English of
it. If I had done as I thought right, I should never have sent you to
school at all. I should have had you taught at home all that's necessary
to make a good girl and an honest woman, and have done my best to keep
you away from the kind of life that I hate. But I hadn't the courage to
act as I believed. I knew how the times were changing, and I was weak
enough to be afraid I might do you an injustice. I did give you the
chance of making friends among better people than your father. Didn't
I use to talk to you about your school friends, and encourage you when
they seemed of the right kind? And now you tell me that they don't
care for your society because you live in a decent, unpretending way. I
should think you're better without such friends.'

Nancy reflected, seemed about to prolong the argument, but spoke at
length in another voice.

'Well, I will say good-night, father.'

It was not usual for them to see each other after dinner, so that a
good-night could seldom be exchanged. The girl, drawing away, expected a
response; she saw her father nod, but he said n