all those little
nothings that make up the whole of happiness in marriage. He would be
different enough, being merely a man; but being a man born and reared in
as different a world from yours as if it were another planet--I want you
to think over all the girls you know--all the _people_ you know--and see
how many of them have married out of their own set, their own circle--we
might almost say, their own family. There isn't one!"

"I've not said I wished to marry him, mamma."

"No. But I wish you to realize just what it would be."

"It would be something rather distinguished, if his dreams came true,"
Louise suggested.

"Well, of course," Mrs. Hilary admitted. She wished to be very, very
reasonable; very, very just; it was the only thing with a girl like
Louise; perhaps with any girl. "It would be distinguished, in a way. But
it wouldn't be distinguished in the society way; the only way you've
professed to care for. I know that we've always been an intellectual
community, and New-Yorkers, and that kind of people, think, or profess
to think, that we make a great deal of literary men. We do invite them
somewhat, but I pass whole seasons without meeting them; and I don't
know that you could say that they are _of_ society, even when they are
_in_ it. If such a man has society connections, he's in society; but
he's there on account of his connections, not on account of his
achievements. This young man may become very distinguished, but he'll
always be rather queer; and he would put a society girl at odds with
society. His distinction would be public; it wouldn't be social."

"Matt doesn't think society is worth minding," Louise said, casually.

"But _you_ do," returned her mother. "And Matt says that a man of this
young man's traditions might mortify you before society people."

"Did Matt say that?" Louise demanded, angrily. "I will _speak_ to Matt
about that! I should like to know what he means by it. I should like to
hear what he would say."

"Very likely he would say that the society people were not worth
minding. You know his nonsense. If you agree with Matt, I've nothing
more to say, Louise; not a word. You can marry a mechanic or a
day-laborer, in that case, without loss of self-respect. I've only been
talking to you on the plane where I've always understood you wished to
be taken. But if you don't, then I can't help it. You must understand,
though, and understand distinctly, that you can't live on two levels;