Certainly these men who had so few spontaneous ideas
might be very useful members of society under good
feminine direction, if they were fortunate in choosing
their sisters-in-law! It is difficult to say
whether there was or was not a little wilfulness in
her continuing blind to the possibility that another
sort of choice was in question in relation to her.
But her life was just now full of hope and action:
she was not only thinking of her plans, but getting
down learned books from the library and reading many
things hastily (that she might be a little less ignorant
in talking to Mr. Casaubon), all the while being visited
with conscientious questionings whether she were not
exalting these poor doings above measure and contemplating
them with that self-satisfaction which was the last
doom of ignorance and folly.
1st Gent. Our deeds are fetters
that we forge ourselves.
2d Gent. Ay, truly: but I think it
is the world
That brings the iron.
“Sir James seems determined to do everything
you wish,” said Celia, as they were driving
home from an inspection of the new building-site.
“He is a good creature, and more sensible than
any one would imagine,” said Dorothea, inconsiderately.
“You mean that he appears silly.”
“No, no,” said Dorothea, recollecting
herself, and laying her hand on her sister’s
a moment, “but he does not talk equally well
on all subjects.”
“I should think none but disagreeable people
do,” said Celia, in her usual purring way.
“They must be very dreadful to live with.
Only think! at breakfast, and always.”
Dorothea laughed. “O Kitty, you are a
wonderful creature!” She pinched Celia’s
chin, being in the mood now to think her very winning
and lovely—fit hereafter to be an eternal
cherub, and if it were not doctrinally wrong to say
so, hardly more in need of salvation than a squirrel.
“Of course people need not be always talking
well. Only one tells the quality of their minds
when they try to talk well.”
“You mean that Sir James tries and fails.”
“I was speaking generally. Why do you
catechise me about Sir James? It is not the
object of his life to please me.”
“Now, Dodo, can you really believe that?”
“Certainly. He thinks of me as a future
sister—that is all.” Dorothea
had never hinted this before, waiting, from a certain
shyness on such subjects which was mutual between the
sisters, until it should be introduced by some decisive
event. Celia blushed, but said at once—
“Pray do not make that mistake any longer, Dodo.
When Tantripp was brushing my hair the other day,
she said that Sir James’s man knew from Mrs.
Cadwallader’s maid that Sir James was to marry
the eldest Miss Brooke.”
“How can you let Tantripp talk such gossip to
you, Celia?” said Dorothea, indignantly, not
the less angry because details asleep in her memory
were now awakened to confirm the unwelcome revelation.
“You must have asked her questions. It
is degrading.”
