, but only evident to be
ridiculous--like the pretensions of those who, newly enriched by trade,
decline all but what they describe as carriage-company."

"The poor gentry are eager enough to marry money, but that does not
prevent them sneering at the way the money is made," Miss Buff said.
"Even Lady Latimer herself, speaking of the family who have taken
Admiral Parkins's house for three months, said it was a pity they should
come to a place like Beechhurst, for the gentlefolk would not call upon
them, and they would feel themselves above associating with the
tradespeople. They are the great tea-dealers in Cheapside."

"Oh, if they are not vulgar and ostentatious, Lady Latimer will soon
forget her prejudice against the tea."

"And invite them to her garden-parties like the rest of us? No doubt she
will; she likes to know everybody. Then some connection with other
people of her acquaintance will come out, or she will learn that they
are influential with the charitable institutions by reason of their
handsome donations, or that they have an uncle high in the Church, or a
daughter married into the brewing interest. Oh, the ramifications of
society are infinite, and it is safest not to lay too much stress on the
tea to begin with."

"Much the safest," Mr. Phipps, who had just come in, agreed. "The
tea-dealer is very rich, and money (we have Solomon's word for it) is a
defence. He is not aware of needing her ladyship's patronage. I expect,
Miss Fairfax, that, drifting up and down and to and fro in your
vicissitudes, you have found all classes much more alike than
different?"

"Yes. The refinements and vulgarities are the monopoly of no degree;
only I think the conceit of moral superiority is common to us all," said
Bessie, and she laughed.

"And well it may be, since the axiom that _noblesse oblige_ has fallen
into desuetude, and the word of a gentleman is no more to swear by than
a huckster's. Tom and Jerry's wives go to court, and the arbitrary
edict of fashion constitutes the latest barbaric importation _bon ton_
for a season. I have been giving Harry Musgrave the benefit of my
wanderings in Italy thirty years ago, and he is so enchanted that you
will have to turn gypsy again next spring, Miss Fairfax."

"It will suit me exactly--a mule or an ox-cart instead of the train,
byways for highways, and sauntering for speed. Did I not tell you long
ago, Mr. Phipps, that the gypsy wildness was in the Fairfax blood, and