I suppose he was a small
clerk, or something of the sort, and he had no business whatever to address
us.'
'Oh, but he only said good morning, and apologised for sitting at our
table. He needn't have apologised at all.'
'Precisely. That is just what I mean,' said Mr. Whiston with
self-satisfaction. 'My dear Rose, if I had been alone, I might perhaps have
talked a little, but with you it was impossible. One cannot be too careful.
A man like that will take all sorts of liberties. One has to keep such
people at a distance.
A moment's pause, then Rose spoke with unusual decision--
'I feel quite sure, father, that he would not have taken liberties. It
seems to me that he knew quite well how to behave himself.'
Mr. Whiston grew still more puzzled. He closed his book to meditate this
new problem.
'One has to lay down rules,' fell from him at length, sententiously. 'Our
position, Rose, as I have often explained, is a delicate one. A lady in
circumstances such as yours cannot exercise too much caution. Your natural
associates are in the world of wealth; unhappily, I cannot make you
wealthy. We have to guard our self-respect, my dear child. Really, it is
not _safe_ to talk with strangers--least of all at an inn.
Pages:
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212