If I did, I should see a curious pyramid.
At the top, a sole and unapproachable figure, the twelfth Earl of
Strathay, just out of school;
Next a society, two-thirds of whose daughters will marry abroad, and to
all of whose members an Earl's lack of a wife is a burning issue;
Hanging by their skirts a thousand others, like the General and Mrs.
Henry, available for big functions, pushing to get into the little ones;
Hanging by these in turn, ten thousand others outside the pale, but
flinging money right and left in charity or prodigality to catch the eyes
of those who catch the eyes of those who nod to Earls;
And after them nobody!
And the problem: "How high can we climb?"
Why, there are twenty thousand families in New York rich enough to be
Elect, if wealth were all. I could almost marry Strathay to save him from
the ugly millioned girls! How they hate me!
I know what love is like, now; Strathay means to speak. If Ned would
only--but three weeks--three long, long weeks, and he doesn't--oh, I
won't believe that, deep in his heart he does not love me. It's not time--
not time, yet, to think about the little Earl!
At any rate I won't be flung at his head; last night I taught Meg a lesson
she'll remember.
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