MARGARET had been, from the first, eager to hear Decourcy’s criticism of the Gastons, and when she found herself seated by her cousin’s side, in the train on the way to Baltimore, with the of an hour’s tête-à-tête before her, she felt sure he would volunteer his impressions. She only hoped that he would remember that, in spite of all, she really liked them, and that he would refrain from speaking too resentfully on the subject. She was full of unuttered criticism herself, but a feeling of to the friends who had shown her so much kindness her from introducing the topic. It soon appeared, however, that Mr. Decourcy had no intention of speaking of it at all. Of course they talked about the Gastons, but it was only in incidental , and, after all, it was Margaret who invited his criticism by saying directly:  
“What do you think of them, Alan?”
 
“Oh, pretty well,” he answered lightly. “The General is a little heavy, but his wife has enough to counterbalance him, and I should say the brother is a fine fellow.”
 
Margaret’s eyes opened wide with . Forgetting all her good resolutions, now that she and her cousin had so decidedly shifted positions, she said excitedly:
 
“Why, Alan, I supposed you thought him simply intolerable.”
 
Her cousin, in his turn, looked surprised.
 
“You know him better than I,” he said, “and it may be that that is his real character; but I met him at the club the other night and was rather struck with him. It may be all surface, however. He is a good-looking fellow—and has very good manners.”
 
“Good manners! Oh, Alan! His conduct, the first time you met him, was really terrible; it filled me with shame for him.”
 
“Oh yes; I remember that very well,” said Decourcy, quietly; “but I rather fancied, from certain signs, that that was mostly due to his being at with you, in some way. Yes,” he went on, looking faintly amused at the reminiscence, “he evidently intended to me, but when he saw that he had better not think of it, I must say he gave up with a good grace, and since then he has done everything in his power to manifest an intention to be civil. In this condition of affairs, I find him a very likeable, intelligent fellow.”
 
“And you bear him no for the manner in which he treated you?”
 
“My dear Daisy! what’s the use of bearing ? Life is much too short. And besides, a great many people are like that.”
 
“What sort of people? Vulgar people and ignorant people, I suppose!”
 
“Well, not necessarily. I have often seen such conduct from people whom I could not, on the whole, call either ignorant or vulgar. It seems to be the instinct with some men to consider every stranger a blackguard, until he has proved himself not to be one.”
 
“It is abominable,” said Margaret; “perfectly barbarous! Such people have no right to claim to be .”
 
“In point of fact, it is only a very small class, my dear, who can justly lay claim to that estate. I understand your feeling. How it carries me back! I used to feel much as you do, before I went out into the world.”
 
“I should think a knowledge of the world would make one more fastidious instead of less so,” said Margaret, sturdily.
 
“I think you are wrong in that. One learns to take things as they come, and loses the notion of having all things exactly to one’s taste.”
 
“But surely such flagrant impoliteness as Mr. Gaston’s would be anywhere,” said Margaret. “You should have seen his treatment of Major King.”
 
She then proceeded to give a spirited account of that episode, to her cousin’s manifest interest and amusement.
 
“And how your hot Southern blood did !” he commented, as she ended her . “You felt as if a crime had been committed in your sight, which it was your sacred duty to avenge—did you not? I had such feelings once myself, and perhaps, in both our cases, they may be traced to the same cause. Constant observation of such a model as your father presents would put most of the world at a disadvantage. There is a fineness of grain in him that one meets with but rarely anywhere. With him the feeling is that every man must be regarded and treated as a gentleman, until he has proved himself not to be one. It is a better way. But I think, after all, Margaret, that absolute good-breeding is a thing we must look for in individuals, and not in classes. It certainly does not exist in any class with which I have been thrown, and I cannot quite see how it could, as long as our social system of standards and rewards what it is. Do you remember a clever squib in Punch, àpropos of all this?&rdqu............