something not right about them, but I'm blessed if I know what it is.
Their mother and I are a bit vulgar, I know, but I've done my best to
copy those who know how to behave--and I believe we'd get through for
what we are anywhere without giving offence. But my girls oughtn't to
be vulgar. It's education as does away with that, and I've filled em
chock-full of education from the time they were babies. It's run out of
them, Mary, like the sands through an hour-glass. They can speak
correctly, and I dare say they know all the small society tricks. But
that isn't everything. They don't know how to dress. They can spend
just as much as they like, and then you can come into the room in a
black gown as you made yourself, and you look a lady, and they don't.
That's the long and short of it. The only decent people who come to
this house are your friends, and they come to see you. There's young
Brooks, now. I've no son, Mary, and I'm fond of young men. I never
knew one I liked as I like him. My daughters are old enough to be
married, and I'd give fifty thousand pounds to have him for a son-in-law.
And, of course, he won't look at 'em. He sees it. He'll talk to you.
He takes no more notice of them than is civil. They fuss round him, and
all that, but they might save themselves the pains. It's hard lines,
Mary. I'm making money as no one knows on. I could live at Enton and
afford it. But what's the good of it? If people don't care to know us
here, they won't anywhere. Mary, how was it education didn't work with
them girls? Your mother was my own sister, and she married a
gentleman. He was a blackguard, but hang it, Mary, if I were you I'd
sooner be penniless and as you are than be my daughters with five
thousand apiece."

There was an embarrassed silence. Then Mary faced the situation boldly.

"Uncle," she said, "you are asking my advice. Is that it?"

"If there's any advice you can give, for God's sake let's have it. But
I don't know as you can make black white."

"Selina and Louise are good girls enough," she said, "but they are a
little spoilt, and they are a little limited in their ideas. A town
like this often has that effect. Take them abroad, uncle, for a year,
or, better still, if you can find the right person, get a companion for
them--a lady--and let her live in the house."

"That's sound!" he answered. "I'll do it."

"And about their clothes, uncle. Take them up to London, go to one of
the best places, and leave