"
"But not a well-bred one."
"The best bred I ever saw.
"Then you never looked in a glass, dear. No, dear uncle, I will tell
you. Mr. Talboys has seen the world, has kept good society, is at his
ease (a great point), and is perfect in externals. But his good
manners are--what shall I say?--coat deep. His politeness is not proof
against temptation, however petty. The reason is, it is only a
spurious politeness. Real politeness is founded and built on the
golden rule, however delicate and artificial its superstructure may
be. But, leaving out of the question the politeness of the heart, he
has not in any sense the true art of good-breeding; he has only the
common traditions. Put him in a novel situation, with no rules and
examples to guide him, he would be maladroit as a school-boy. He is
just the counterpart of Mr. Dodd in that respect. Poor Mr. Dodd is
always shocking one by violating the commonest rules of society; but
every now and then he bursts out with a flash of natural courtesy so
bright, so refined, so original, yet so worthy of imitation, that you
say to yourself this is genius--the genius of good-breeding."
Mr. Fountain chafed with impatience during this tirade, in which he
justly suspected an attempt to fritter away a serious discussion.
"Come off your hobby, Lucy," cried he, "and speak to me like a woman
and like my niece. If this is your objection, overcome it for my
sake."
"I would, dear," said Lucy, "but it is only one of my objections, and
by no means the most serious.
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