The book is not trying to stretch that far, but it is clear from how in particular Charlotte Bartlett responds to them that they are worthy of her opinion of snobbery. She quote, she knew that the intruder into their conversation was ill-bred even before she glanced at him. He was an old man of heavy build with a fair, shaven face and large eyes. There was something childish in those eyes, though it was not the childishness of senility. And so Mr. Emerson and his son George do little, like, you know... Sure, not Dick Van Dyke and Mary Popp. But he has an accent, so he's got a stupid kid face