"
"Let me explain. You see, when one of us marries a woman of his own
class--'Prinzessen, Comtessen, Serene English Altessen,' as Svengali
called them--he usually gets a partner more--ah--hidebound, I think you
call it--than himself--a greater stickler for precedent and tradition
and position and etiquette and elegant leisure, and all that sort of
thing. Whatever liberal ideas he may have had, he finds he must abandon
or, at least, suppress, if there is to be peace between his wife and
him. It is only those who are so fortunate as to meet and win exactly
the right woman _out_ of their class who get the incentive. You
understand, now?"
"Yes," said Susie, with a queer catch in her voice. "Yes, I think I do."
"So," he added, with a little bitter laugh, "you see why we others look
askance at these exceptions. In the first place they have preferred to
step down out of their rank for a wife--that deals a blow at the
tradition, and every blow weakens it; in the second place, they have
left some noble lady husbandless, for your noble ladies seldom so far
forget their rank as to marry out of it, though that may be because the
men never permit them to--again an injury to us as a class; and,
finally, they are mixing with the world, they are meeting other men face
to face, as equals, they are claiming no merit because of birth, no
authority because of rank; they are, perhaps, even working with their
hands.
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