Though her father, as he had learned, had begun life as a store-boy, and her mother was not the most learned person in the world, Alice Yorke was a lady to her finger-tips, and in her own fine person was the incontestable proof of a strain of gentle blood somewhere.

Those delicate features, fine hands, trim ankles, and silken hair told their own story.
So he came near saying, "That does not make any difference"; but he restrained himself.

He said instead, "I do not know that I understand you." It was very annoying to have to be so plain, but it was, Mrs.Yorke felt, quite necessary.
"Why, I mean that my daughter has always moved in the--the most--exclusive society; she has had the best advantages, and has a right to expect the best that can be given her." "Do you mean that you think my family is not good enough for your daughter ?" There was a tone in his quiet voice that made her glance up at him, and a look on his face that made her answer quickly: "Oh, no; not that, of course.

I have no doubt your family is--indeed, I have heard it is--ur--.

But my daughter has every right to expect the best that life can give.