Hester perceived clearly enough that her brother did not by birth belong to this set, though his profession brought him in contact with it, but he had evidently, though involuntarily, adopted it for better for worse; perhaps because a dictatorial habit is generally constrained to find companionship in a social grade lower than its own, where a loud voice and a tendency to monologue checkered by prehistoric jokes and tortured puns may meet with a more patient audience.  Hester made many discoveries about herself during the first months of her life at Warpington, and the first of the series amazed her more than any of the later ones.

She discovered that she was proud.  Perhaps she had not the enormous opinion of herself which Mrs. Gresley so frequently deplored, for Hester’s thoughts seldom dwelt upon herself.  But the altered circumstances of her life forced them momentarily upon herself nevertheless, as a burst pipe will spread its waters down a damask curtain.

So far, during the eight years since she had left the school-room, she had always been “Miss Gresley,” a little personage treated with consideration wherever she went, and choyee for her delicate humor and talent for conversation.  She now experienced the interesting sensation, as novel to her as it is familiar to most of us, of being nobody, and she disliked it.  The manners of the set in which she found herself also grated continually on her fastidious taste.  She was first amazed and then indignant at hearing her old Middleshire friends, whose simplicity far surpassed that of her new acquaintance, denounced by the latter—­without being acquainted with them except officially—­as “fine,” as caring only for “London people,” and as being “tuft-hunters,” because they frequently entertained at their houses persons of rank, to half of whom they were related.  All this was new to Hester.  She discovered that, though she might pay visits at these houses, she must never mention them, as it was considered the height of vulgarity to speak of people of rank.

Mrs. Gresley, who had been quite taken aback when the first of these invitations came, felt it her duty to warn Hester against a love of rank, reminding her that it was a very bad thing to get a name for running after titled people.

“James and I have always kept clear of that,” she remarked, with dignity.  “For my part, I dare say you will think me very old-fashioned, but I must own I never can see that people with titles or wealth are one bit nicer or pleasanter than those without them.”

Hester agreed.

“And,” continued Mrs. Gresley, “it has always been our aim to be independent, not to bow down before any one.  If I am unworldly, it is because I had the advantage of parents who impressed on me the hollowness of all social distinctions.  If the Pratts were given a title to-morrow I should behave exactly the same to them as I do now.”

If Lady Susan Gresley had passed her acquaintance through a less exclusive sieve, Hester might have had the advantage of hearing all these well-worn sentiments, and of realizing the point of view of a large number of her fellow-creatures before she became an inconspicuous unit in their midst.