It must be owned that the gentlemanly son of the house looked
rather out of place in the course of this operation. Nor was his
mind quite philosophic enough to allow him to be comfortable with
these old-established persons, his father's friends. He had never
lived long at home--scarcely at all since his childhood. The
presence of William Worm was the most awkward feature of the case,
for, though Worm had left the house of Mr. Swancourt, the being
hand-in-glove with a ci-devant servitor reminded Stephen too
forcibly of the vicar's classification of himself before he went
from England. Mrs. Smith was conscious of the defect in her
arrangements which had brought about the undesired conjunction.
She spoke to Stephen privately.
'I am above having such people here, Stephen; but what could I do?
And your father is so rough in his nature that he's more mixed up
with them than need be.'
'Never mind, mother,' said Stephen; 'I'll put up with it now.'
'When we leave my lord's service, and get further up the country--
as I hope we shall soon--it will be different. We shall be among
fresh people, and in a larger house, and shall keep ourselves up a
bit, I hope.'
'Is Miss Swancourt at home, do you know?' Stephen inquired
'Yes, your father saw her this morning.'
'Do you often see her?'
'Scarcely ever. Mr. Glim, the curate, calls occasionally, but the
Swancourts don't come into the village now any more than to drive
through it.
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