“Leave that unsaid, Catherine,” said Mrs. Arrowpoint, bitterly. “Every one else will say that for you. You will be a public fable. Every one will say that you must have made an offer to a man who has been paid to come to the house—who is nobody knows what—a gypsy, a Jew, a mere bubble of the earth.” “Never mind, mamma,” said Catherine, indignant in her turn. “We all know he is a genius—as Tasso was.” “Those times were not these, nor is Klesmer Tasso,” said Mrs. Arrowpoint, getting more heated. “There is no sting in _that_ sarcasm, except the sting of undutifulness.” “I am sorry to hurt you, mamma. But I will not give up the happiness of my life to ideas that I don’t believe in and customs I have no respect for.” “You have lost all sense of duty, then? You have forgotten that you are our only child—that it lies with you to place a great property in the right hands?” “What are the right hands? My grandfather gained the property in trade.” “Mr. Arrowpoint, _will_ you sit by and hear this without speaking?” “I am a gentleman, Cath. We expect you to marry a gentleman,” said the father, exerting himself. “And a man connected with the institutions of this country,” said the mother. “A woman in your position has serious duties. Where duty and inclination clash, she must follow duty.” “I don’t deny that,” said Catherine, getting colder in proportion to her mother’s heat. “But one may say very true things and apply them falsely. People can easily take the sacred word duty as a name for what they desire any one else to do.” “Your parent’s desire makes no duty for you, then?” “Yes, within reason. But before I give up the happiness of my life—” “Catherine, Catherine, it will not be your happiness,” said Mrs. Arrowpoint, in her most raven-like tones. “Well, what seems to me my happiness—before I give it up, I must see some better reason than the wish that I should marry a nobleman, or a man who votes with a party that he may be turned into a nobleman. I feel at liberty to marry the man I love and think worthy, unless some higher duty forbids.” “And so it does, Catherine, though you are blinded and cannot see it. It is a woman’s duty not to lower herself. You are lowering yourself. Mr. Arrowpoint, will you tell your daughter what is her duty?” “You must see, Catherine, that Klesmer is not the man for you,” said Mr. Arrowpoint. “He won’t do at the head of estates. He has a deuced foreign look—is an unpractical man.” “I really can’t see what that has to do with it, papa. The land of England has often passed into the hands of foreigners—Dutch soldiers, sons of foreign women of bad character:—if our land were sold to-morrow it would very likely pass into the hands of some foreign merchant on ’Change. It is in everybody’s mouth that successful swindlers may buy up half the land in the country. How can I stem that tide?”