"Put yourself in the position of an unmarried servant girl," Maisie said to the governor. He looked startled, and she suppressed a grin. "Think of the consequences if you become a mother: you will lose your job and your home, you will have no means of support, and your child will have no father. Would you then think to yourself: 'Oh, but I can be delivered at Mrs. Greenbourne's nice hospital in Southwark, so I may as well go ahead and do it?' Of course not. My hospital does nothing to encourage girls into immorality. I just save them from giving birth in the gutter."
Dan Robinson, sitting on his sister's other side, joined in. "It's rather like the banking bill I'm proposing in Parliament, which would oblige banks to take out insurance for the benefit of small depositors."
"I know of it," the governor said.
Dan went on: "Some critics say it would encourage bankruptcy by making it less painful. But that's nonsense. No banker would want to fail, under any circumstances."
"Indeed not."
"When a banker is making a deal he does not think that he may make a widow in Bournemouth penniless by his rashness--he worries about his own wealth. Similarly, making illegitimate children suffer does nothing to discourage unscrupulous men from seducing servant girls."
"I do see your point," the governor said with a pained expression. "A most ... ah ... original parallel."
Maisie decided they had tormented him enough, and turned away, letting him concentrate on his grouse.
Dan said to her: "Have you ever noticed how peerages always go to the wrong people? Look at Hugh and his cousin Edward. Hugh is honest, talented and hardworking, where Edward is foolish, lazy and worthless--yet Edward is the earl of Whitehaven and Hugh is just plain Mr. Pilaster."
Maisie was trying not to look at Hugh. Although she was glad to have been invited, she found it painful to see him in the bosom of his family. His wife, his sons, his mother and his sister made a closed family circle that left her outside. She knew his marriage to Nora was unhappy: it was obvious from the way they spoke to one another, never touching, never smiling, never affectionate. But that was no consolation. They were a family and she would never be part of it.
She wished she had not come to the wedding.
A footman came to Hugh's side and said quietly: "There's a telephone call for you from the bank, sir."
"I can't speak now," Hugh said.
