as his own favourite, fundamental system of
division which he unconsciously uses to class each new person with
whom he meets. At the time of which I am speaking, my own favourite,
fundamental system of division in this respect was into people "comme il
faut" and people "comme il ne faut pas"--the latter subdivided, again,
into people merely not "comme il faut" and the lower orders. People
"comme il faut" I respected, and looked upon as worthy to consort with
me as my equals; the second of the above categories I pretended merely
to despise, but in reality hated, and nourished towards them a kind
of feeling of offended personality; while the third category had no
existence at all, so far as I was concerned, since my contempt for
them was too complete. This "comme il faut"-ness of mine lay, first and
foremost, in proficiency in French, especially conversational French. A
person who spoke that language badly at once aroused in me a feeling of
dislike. "Why do you try to talk as we do when you haven't a notion how
to do it?" I would seem to ask him with my most venomous and quizzing
smile. The second condition of "comme il faut"-ness was long nails
that were well kept and clean; the third, ability to bow, dance,
and converse; the fourth--and a very important one--indifference to
everything, and a constant air of refined, supercilious ennui. Moreover,
there were certain general signs which, I considered, enabled me
to tell, without actually speaking to a man, the class to which he
belonged. Chief among these signs (the others being the fittings of his
rooms, his gloves, his handwriting, his turn-out, and so forth) were his
feet. The relation of boots to trousers was sufficient to determine, in
my eyes, the social status of a man. Heelless boots with angular toes,
wedded to narrow, unstrapped trouser-ends--these denoted the vulgarian.
Boots with narrow, round toes and heels, accompanied either by tight
trousers strapped under the instep and fitting close to the leg or by
wide trousers similarly strapped, but projecting in a peak over the
toe--these meant the man of mauvais genre; and so on, and so on.

It was a curious thing that I who lacked all ability to become "comme il
faut," should have assimilated the idea so completely as I did. Possibly
it was the fact that it had cost me such enormous labour to acquire that
brought about its strenuous development in my mind. I hardly like to
think how much of the best and most valuabl