How strange--how very strange it seems to me!' she murmured.
'My mother curtseyed to you and your father last Sunday,' said
Stephen, with a pained smile at the thought of the incongruity.
'And your papa said to her, "I am glad to see you so regular at
church, JANE."'
'I remember it, but I have never spoken to her. We have only been
here eighteen months, and the parish is so large.'
'Contrast with this,' said Stephen, with a miserable laugh, 'your
father's belief in my "blue blood," which is still prevalent in
his mind. The first night I came, he insisted upon proving my
descent from one of the most ancient west-county families, on
account of my second Christian name; when the truth is, it was
given me because my grandfather was assistant gardener in the
Fitzmaurice-Smith family for thirty years. Having seen your face,
my darling, I had not heart to contradict him, and tell him what
would have cut me off from a friendly knowledge of you.'
She sighed deeply. 'Yes, I see now how this inequality may be
made to trouble us,' she murmured, and continued in a low, sad
whisper, 'I wouldn't have minded if they had lived far away. Papa
might have consented to an engagement between us if your
connection had been with villagers a hundred miles off; remoteness
softens family contrasts. But he will not like--O Stephen,
Stephen! what can I do?'
'Do?' he said tentatively, yet with heaviness.
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