Spying on Dignity

          The house looked like the Coliseum to me—the Coliseum with a huge, green lawn in front.  The house was mammoth—much larger than it appeared from the highway.  But now that I was there, walking up the white driveway, I could hardly believe my eyes.

            And there they were: beautiful women clad in shimmery evening gowns, gentlemen in tuxedos, sipping champagne.  A mini orchestra swayed the dancers like a breeze on a field of tall grass.

            I hung back in the trees, watching the people on the patio.  They were like shadows, slitting before my eyes and blending into a unified mass of wealth.  Gold, glitz, and glamour… it was all here, and it made my heart pound just to be so near it.  There was a difference between the society column in the newspaper and the real-life party on the patio of the Great House.

            Now I had seen it.  Now I was done.  I slid away into the park, leaving the aristocracy to itself.

A Disadvantageous Marriage

            “My dear sir!  You must see how disadvantageous such a marriage would be!  She is a working girl.”

            “She is a hard-working girl, with true strength of the character.”

            “Her uncle is in trade.  And who knows who her father was?  Probably she is illegitimate.”

            “That’s ridiculous.  Her mother is too respectable for that.  She may not be the daughter of a gentleman, but she is respectable.”

            “Your son is a gentleman.  Sir, you are a gentleman.  How can you allow this?”

            “Mr. Riggs, I am a gentleman and I love my son.  My son loves her.  She is a fine girl, and—"

            “A fine girl?  A fine girl?  She is so unrefined.”

            “She is honest, and gentle, and polite.  My son loves her and I will not deny him his happiness because of questionable birth.”

            His opponent heaved a sigh.

            “Do as you will.  But my dear sir, do not say I didn’t warn you.”

            “Good-bye, Mr. Riggs.”

            “Good-bye, sir.”