'But you said just now, dear mother----' retorted Stephen, unable
to resist the temptation of showing his mother her inconsistency.
Then he paused.

'Well, what did I say?' And Mrs. Smith prepared her lips for a new
campaign.

Stephen, regretting that he had begun, since a volcano might be
the consequence, was obliged to go on.

'You said I wasn't out of her class just before.'

'Yes, there, there! That's you; that's my own flesh and blood.
I'll warrant that you'll pick holes in everything your mother
says, if you can, Stephen. You are just like your father for
that; take anybody's part but mine. Whilst I am speaking and
talking and trying and slaving away for your good, you are waiting
to catch me out in that way. So you are in her class, but 'tis
what HER people would CALL marrying out of her class. Don't be so
quarrelsome, Stephen!'

Stephen preserved a discreet silence, in which he was imitated by
his father, and for several minutes nothing was heard but the
ticking of the green-faced case-clock against the wall.

'I'm sure,' added Mrs. Smith in a more philosophic tone, and as a
terminative speech, 'if there'd been so much trouble to get a
husband in my time as there is in these days--when you must make a
god-almighty of a man to get en to hae ye--I'd have trod clay for
bricks before I'd ever have lowered my dignity to marry, or