'No, no--don't speak in that way. I don't want you to call me 'sir'; it
isn't necessary; we've known each other so long, and I think of you as
a friend, a very good friend. Think of me in the same way, and speak
naturally. I want to know your opinion of Nancy.'

The listener had a face of grave attention: it signified no surprise, no
vulgar self-consciousness, but perhaps a just perceptible pleasure. And
in replying she looked steadily at her master for a moment.

'I really don't feel I can judge her, Mr. Lord. It's true, in a way, I
ought to know her very well, as I've seen her day by day since she was
a little thing. But now she's a well-educated and clever young lady, and
she has got far beyond me--'

'Ay, there it is, there it is!' Stephen interrupted with bitterness.
'She's got beyond us--beyond me as well as you. And she isn't what
I meant her to be, very far from it. I haven't brought them up as I
wished. I don't know--I'm sure I don't know why. It was in own hands.
When they were little children, I said to myself: hey shall grow up
plain, good, honest girl and boy. I said that I wouldn't educate them
very much; I saw little good that came of it, in our rank of life.
I meant them to be simple-minded. I hoped Nancy would marry a plain
countryman, like the men I used to know when I was a boy; a farmer, or
something of that kind. But see how it's come about. It wasn't that I
altered my mind about what was best. But I seemed to have no choice.
For one thing, I made more money at business than I had expected, and
so--and so it seemed that they ought to be educated above me and mine.
There was my mother, did a better woman ever live? She had no education
but that of home. She could have brought up Nancy in the good,
old-fashioned way, if I had let her. I wish I had, yes, I wish I had.'

'I don't think you could have felt satisfied,' said the listener, with
intelligent sympathy.

'Why not? If she had been as good and useful a woman as _you_ are--'

'Ah, you mustn't think in that way, Mr. Lord. I was born and bred to
service. Your daughter had a mind given her at her birth, that would
never have been content with humble things. She was meant for education
and a higher place.'

'What higher place is there for her? She thinks herself too good for the
life she leads here, and yet I don't believe she'll ever find a place
among people of a higher class. She has told me herself it's my fault.
She says I ought to have