You would all be rich people
together, and you would understand one another because you had money."
"Now, that is not so," Mrs. Makely interrupted. "There are plenty of rich
people one wouldn't wish to know at all, and who really can't get into
society--who are ignorant and vulgar. And then, when you come to money, I
don't see but what country people are as glad to get it as anybody."
"Oh, gladder," said the young man.
"Well?" demanded Mrs. Makely, as if this were a final stroke of logic. The
young man did not reply, and Mrs. Makely continued: "Now I will appeal to
your sister to say whether she has ever seen any difference in my manner
toward her from what I show to all the young ladies in the hotel." The
young girl flushed and seemed reluctant to answer. "Why, Lizzie!" cried
Mrs. Makely, and her tone showed that she was really hurt.
The scene appeared to me rather cruel, and I glanced at Mrs. Camp with an
expectation that she would say something to relieve it. But she did not.
Her large, benevolent face expressed only a quiet interest in the
discussion.
"You know very well, Mrs. Makely," said the girl, "you don't regard me as
you do the young ladies in the hotel.
Pages:
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168