Elsie had expressed a doubt of her cousin’s getting into society; but there appeared to be no likelihood of any of the country gentry looking down on the new laird of Cross Hall.  The visiting acquaintance of people of sufficient standing in and about Swinton had consisted of twenty-four marriageable ladies and only four marriageable gentlemen, even including William Dalzell, who was known to be both poor and extravagant, and an old bachelor-proprietor, nearly as old as Mr. Hogarth, senior, and as unlikely to marry.  Parties in the country were greatly indebted to striplings and college students home for holidays to represent the male sex.  They could dance, and could do a little flirtation, and thought much more of themselves than they ought to do; but as for marrying, that was out of the question.  An exchange of two heiresses for one heir of Cross Hall could not but be considered to be an advantageous one.  It was not in human nature that the young ladies themselves, and their fathers and mothers, and party-givers generally, should not be eager to know Francis Hogarth, and be more than civil to him.  The court that is paid to any man who is believed to be in a position to marry, is one of the most distressing features in British society; it is most mischievous to the one sex, and degrading to the other.  Long, long may it be before we see anything like it in the Australian colonies!

No doubt, if it is excusable anywhere, it is so in country or provincial society in Scotland.  “We cannot help spoiling the men”—­says a distressed party-giver in these latitudes, conscious that this state of things is not right, and half-ashamed of herself for giving in to it—­“there are really so few of them.”  The sons of families of the middle and upper classes as they grow up are sent out to India, to the army, to America, or to the Australian colonies.  Even when they do not leave the kingdom, they leave the neighbourhood, and go to large towns, where they may practise a profession or enter into business with some chance of success.  Their sisters remain at home with no business, no profession, no object in life, and no hope of any change except through marriage.  Many of their contemporaries never return, but settle in the colonies or die there; but, if they do return with money—­perhaps with broken constitutions and irritable tempers from India—­they still consider themselves too young to look at the women with whom they flirted and danced before they left the old country, and select some one of a different generation, who was perhaps a baby at that time.  Fathers and mothers see too clearly the advantages of an establishment to object to the disparity of years and the state of the liver, while the girl, fluttered into importance (as Madame de Vericourt says) by presents, and jewels, and shawls, thinks herself a most fortunate woman, particularly if she is not required to go to India, but can have a good position at home.