Jack wondered whether happiness abounded alongside with ignorance, and was more sparse with knowledge; whether education did not spoil a man for the enjoyment of simple pleasures. He would have found no satisfaction had he been within, dancing with the rest. He would have felt himself out of accord with those present. He was separated from these young people mentally, and was no longer capable of sharing in their pleasures as he was debarred from taking part in their pursuits. But he was not the only person who was solitary, isolated, that evening. Over against him sat Winefred on a bench against the barn wall. A flaming ring of candles threw a comparatively strong light upon her face. No lad had spoken to her, none had invited her to dance; although, as Jack could not fail to discover, she was far handsomer than any other girl present. Nor did those of her own sex associate with her. They held aloof, and if they noticed her it was in a captious spirit: they whispered and pointed at her gown or her trinkets, and tittered. It was unfortunate; it was provocative. Her mother had insisted in dressing Winefred for the occasion in a manner wholly unbecoming the sort of entertainment to which she had been asked. A handsome dress, bracelets, and brooches were resented by the girls present as an attempt to outshine them in their humbler stuffs and cheap ornaments. To do her justice, Winefred had entreated her mother not to oblige her to appear overdressed, but Jane Marley could not understand her shrinking. She regarded this as an opportunity for the assertion of superiority over the other girls of Axmouth, an opportunity to be seized on and enjoyed. Winefred was keenly alive to the awkwardness of her situation, but was too proud to show how wounded she was by the slights put on her. She could not, she would not stoop to solicit the friendship of girls who regarded her mother as a thief. It would be solely on condition that they acknowledged her mother's integrity that she would relax towards them. So long as they held her mother in suspicion, so long would she hold aloof from them. Consequently she did nothing to disarm the ill-feeling that existed against her. None ventured to attack her openly, being afraid of her sharp tongue. She was well aware that around her was the flicker of animosity, like summer lightning, of which one cannot say where it will strike. The girls to whom she and her mother had sold ribbons, laces, papers of pins, and reels of cotton, resented her sudden elevation to a position――as far as money went――far above them. The boys followed suit. They took their tone from their partners. She made no attempt to attract them by graciousness of manner. Those few who had approached her were repulsed.