He
contented himself with being punctiliously correct in his table
etiquette.
Perhaps he could have followed no wiser course, Dave's manners had an
effect upon Mrs. Hardy similar to that which she had experienced from
the decent civilization of the western city. To her it seemed
impossible that a raw youth, bred on the ranges--a cow puncher--could
conduct himself correctly in evening dress at a fashionable table. It
was more than impossible--it was heterodox; it was a defiance of all
the principles upon which caste is based, and to Mrs. Hardy caste was
the one safe line of demarkation between refinement and vulgarity. So
she noted Elden's correct deportment, even to--as it seemed to her--his
correct modesty in taking little part in the conversation, with a sense
that all this was a disguise, and that presently he would,
figuratively, burst forth from his linen and broadcloth and stand
revealed in schaps and bandana. But the meal progressed with no such
development, and Mrs. Hardy had a vague sense that this young man was
not dealing fairly with her. He was refusing to live up to her
preconceived ideas of what his part should be. Had Mrs. Hardy been
capable of analyzing her own emotions correctly, she would have known
that Dave was undermining her belief in caste, and without caste there
could be no civilization! But Mrs. Hardy was not a deep self-analyst.
Those who accept all distinctions as due to external causes have no
occasion to employ any deep mental subtlety in classifying their
acquaintances.
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