Younger sons with no prospect of
succession are of exactly no account with the American mamma. I've met a
few of them."
"Oh, I fancy birth would be enough for Mrs. Groome. She's quite dotty on
the subject, and the people out here are simpler than Easterners, anyhow.
Simpler and more ingenuous."
"How is it you know so much about it, all, if you are not, as you
say--pardon me--a part of it?"
"I wonder!" She gave a short hard little laugh. "I don't know that I could
explain, except that it all has seemed to me from birth a part of my blood
and bones and gristle. An accident, a lucky strike on my father's part when
he first came out here, and they would know me as well to-day as I know
them. And then...of course...it is a small community. We live on the
doorsteps of the rich and important, as it were. It would be hard for us
not to know. It just comes to us. We are magnets. I suppose all this seems
to you--born on the inside--quite ignominious."
"Well, my mother would have remained on the outside--that is to say a quiet
little provincial--if her father hadn't happened to make a fortune with his
iron works. I can understand well enough, but, if you don't mind my saying
so, I think it rather a pity."
"Pity?"
"I mean thinking so much about it, don't you know? I fancy it's the result
of living in a small city where there are only a few hundred people between
you and the top instead of a few hundred thousand.
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