"Oh, he is the oil, soft—neutralizing—rather tasteless; while I, you know, have a character of my own—am positive—ambut perhaps it would not be quite modest for me to finish the parallel. To confess the truth to you, Jane, I have always had an aversion to Quakers; they are a very hypocritical sect, depend upon it; pretending, sly, cheating rogues."
"That's a harsh judgment," replied Jane, with some warmth, "and a prejudice, I think; is not Mr. Lloyd the only Quaker you know?"
"Why—ye—yes, the only one I know much of."
"And does he justify your opinion?"
"I don't know; it takes a great while to find them out; and even if Lloyd should be what he would seem, the exception only proves the rule. I have always disliked Quakers. I remember a story my father used to tell, when I was a child, about his being over-reached in a most ingenious, practised manner, by one of the scoundrels, as he called the whole race. It was not an affair of any great moment; but no man likes to be outwitted in a bargain, and my father used to say it gave him an antipathy to the very name of a Quaker."
"I think your father was in fault," replied Jane, "so carelessly to implant a prejudice, which, as it seems to have had very slight ground, I trust has not taken such deep root that it cannot be easily eradicated."
"There is more reason in my judgment than you give me credit for," replied Edward pettishly.
