"I am not so sure," Julia answered; "lots of things you would not
expect depend on it. I know people who sometimes go without the food
they want so that they can buy expensive cakes to show off when their
acquaintances come to tea--that's silly, isn't it? Then I know other
people who blush if a pair of breeches, or something equally
inoffensive, are mentioned; that seems equally silly. One lot of
people is ashamed to be seen eating bread-and-cheese suppers, another
lot is ashamed to be seen walking off the side-walk, and with no
gloves on. One would hardly expect in, yet I almost believe these
silly little things somehow make a difference to what the people think
right and wrong."

Joost regarded her doubtfully, though he could only see the outline of
her face. "Are you making fun?" he asked. "I do not know when you are
making fun; I think you must be now. Are you speaking of us?"

"I never felt less like making fun in my life," Julia answered
ignoring the last question. Something in her tone struck Joost as sad,
and he forgot his question in sympathy.

"I am sorry," he said; "you are unhappy, and I have intruded upon you;
will you forgive me? You are thinking of your home, no doubt; you have
not had a letter from England for a long time."

Julia wished he did not notice so many things. "I did not expect a
letter," she said; "my eldest sister was married last week, there
would be no time to write to me till everything was over; most likely
I shall hear to-morrow."