Mrs Merdle shrugged her snowy shoulders and put her hand upon the
jewel-stand, checking a little cough, as though to add, 'why, a man
looks out for this sort of thing, my dear.' Then the parrot shrieked
again, and she put up her glass to look at him, and said, 'Bird! Do be
quiet!' 'But, young men,' resumed Mrs Merdle, 'and by young men you know
what I mean, my love--I mean people's sons who have the world before
them--they must place themselves in a better position towards Society by
marriage, or Society really will not have any patience with their making
fools of themselves. Dreadfully worldly all this sounds,' said Mrs
Merdle, leaning back in her nest and putting up her glass again, 'does
it not?' 'But it is true,' said Mrs Gowan, with a highly moral air.
'My dear, it is not to be disputed for a moment,' returned Mrs Merdle;
'because Society has made up its mind on the subject, and there is
nothing more to be said. If we were in a more primitive state, if we
lived under roofs of leaves, and kept cows and sheep and creatures
instead of banker's accounts (which would be delicious; my dear, I am
pastoral to a degree, by nature), well and good. But we don't live
under leaves, and keep cows and sheep and creatures. I perfectly exhaust
myself sometimes, in pointing out the distinction to Edmund Sparkler.'
Mrs Gowan, looking over her green fan when this young gentleman's name
was mentioned, replied as follows:
'My love, you know the wretched state of the country--those unfortunate
concessions of John Barnacle's!--and you therefore know the reasons for
my being as poor as Thingummy.' 'A church mouse?'
Mrs Merdle suggested with a smile.
'I was thinking of the other proverbial church person--Job,' said Mrs
Gowan. 'Either will do. It would be idle to disguise, consequently, that
there is a wide difference between the position of your son and mine. I
may add, too, that Henry has talent--'
'Which Edmund certainly has not,' said Mrs Merdle, with the greatest
suavity. '--and that his talent, combined with disappointment,' Mrs Gowan went
on, 'has led him into a pursuit which--ah dear me! You know, my dear.
Such being Henry's different position, the question is what is the most
inferior class of marriage to which I can reconcile myself.'
Mrs Merdle was so much engaged with the contemplation of her arms
(beautiful-formed arms, and the very thing for bracelets), that she
omitted to reply for a while. Roused at length by the silence, she
folded the arms, and with admirable presence of mind looked her friend
full in the face, and said interrogatively, 'Ye-es? And then?'