When I think
how clever they must be, the people who make me buy! Ah no; I couldn't
be a shopkeeper. I can't be a doctor; it's a repulsive business. I
can't be a clergyman; I haven't got convictions. And then I can't
pronounce the names right in the Bible. They're very difficult, in the
Old Testament particularly. I can't be a lawyer; I don't understand-
how do you call it?- the American procedure. Is there anything else?
There's nothing for a gentleman in America. I should like to be a
diplomatist; but American diplomacy- that's not for gentlemen
either. I'm sure if you had seen the last min-"
Henrietta Stackpole, who was often with her friend when Mr.
Rosier, coming to pay his compliments late in the afternoon, expressed
himself after the fashion I have sketched, usually interrupted the
young man at this point and read him a lecture on the duties of the
American citizen. She thought him most unnatural; he was worse than
poor Ralph Touchett. Henrietta, however, was at this time more than
ever addicted to fine criticism, for her conscience had been freshly
alarmed as regards Isabel. She had not congratulated this young lady
on her augmentations and begged to be excused from doing so.
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