“Oh! for goodness’ sake strike out that word from your vocabulary!” hotly exclaimed Lionel. “It means absolutely nothing but impunity to do every disgraceful action under the sun.”
“I beg your pardon, my dear Lionel, the word means everything. A bad action committed by a gentleman is very different from one committed by a plebeian; the first knows what he is about, and whatever he does, he never forgets that he is born a gentleman.”
“The more shame to him for not behaving like one,” muttered Lionel.
“Oh! dear boy, you are too radical, indeed. Well, tell me, had you many sins to confess? Had Gwen a heap of peccadilloes on her conscience?”
“Oh! oh! are they so appalling that my matronly ear cannot hear them? Fie on you both!” and Lady Carey looked very arch.
“These are mysteries that we have tried to solve alone.”
“Where has your sense of humour gone to, my poor fellow? But, never mind, forgive my importunate questions; you don’t know how ghastly dull life has become. Everything is so uniform, the days so long, the amusements so scarce; and what dreadful plays your new stage Society is producing! Oh! my dear boy, it is too awful. Still, one must go to them, or else we should all be left out in the cold, and Society would crumble away.”
“And you really believe that Society does exist?” sententiously questioned Danford, as he entered the room and bowed to the hostess. “There is nothing so pernicious as delusions, Lady Carey; Society is a huge spectrum reflecting all sorts of coloured shapes, which appear to each one perfect in _contour_. No one ever thinks of striking the lens, because they each of them have seen their own likeness reflected in it, and believe in its reality. But the reality is only the semblance of reality; strike the lens, and the likeness will suddenly appear out of proportion; and when broken to atoms, the whole phantasmagoria will vanish, leaving the real substance untouched. You have lived under the delusion that the social phantom was substantial; you must admit now that it was a deity created by man.”
“It would not exist any longer were we to give up playing our part in the tournament; but there is still life in the old British lion, Mr Danford. Do take a cup of tea.”