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Updated: October 27, 2026
"Then why didn't you answer them as they deserved?" "Oh, I don't know. What's the use? They've got troubles of their own. One of 'em's a used-to-be, and the other's a never-was. Either disease is bad enough without addin' complications." Pearson laughed. "I don't get the whole of that, Captain," he said. "Mrs. Van is the used-to-be, I suppose. But what is it that Miss Sherborne never was?"
Something in Rasba's words, or it was in his voice, or in the quick, full-flood of his glance, touched her senses. "You see, missy, I'm a sinner myse'f!" What had he meant? If he had meant that she, too, was a sinner, was that any of his business? Of course, being a parson she shrugged her shoulders. Her thoughts ran swiftly back to her home that used-to-be.
When a vanity of superiority rests on what used to be, it dies much harder than when it rests upon what is. But Arthur's self-infatuation, based though it was on the "used-to-be," then and there crumbled and vanished forever. Love cleared his sight in an instant, where reason would have striven in vain against the stubborn prejudices of snobbism.