“I remember it; but forgive me if I say first
I think the whole is rather too—too lengthy
to take.”
“Oh, that is only because manuscript takes long
to read aloud. I counted the words, so I can’t
be mistaken, at least I collated twenty lines, and
multiplied; and it is not so long as the Invalid’s
last letter about systematic reading.”
“And then comes my question again, Is good to
come of it?”
“That I can’t expect you to see at this
time; but it is to be the beginning of a series, exposing
the fallacies of woman’s life as at present
conducted; and out of these I mean to point the way
to more consistent, more independent, better combined
exertion. If I can make myself useful with my
pen, it will compensate for the being debarred from
so many more obvious outlets. I should like to
have as much influence over people’s minds as
that Invalid for instance, and by earnest effort I
know I shall attain it.”
“I—I—” half-laughing
and blushing, “I hope you will, for I know you
would wish to use it for good; but, to speak plainly,
I doubt about the success of this effort, or—or
if it ought to succeed.”
“Yes, I know you do,” said Rachel.
“No one ever can judge of a manuscript.
You have done all I wished you to do, and I value
your sincerity. Of course I did not expect praise,
since the more telling it is on the opposite side,
the less you could like it. I saw you appreciated
it.”
And Rachel departed, while Rose crept up to her aunt,
asking, “Aunt Ermine, why do you look so very
funny? It was very tiresome. Are not you
glad it is over?”
“I was thinking, Rose, what a difficult language
plain English is sometimes.”
“What, Miss Rachel’s? I couldn’t
understand one bit of her long story, except that
she did not like weak tea.”
“It was my own that I meant,” said Ermine.
“But, Rose, always remember that a person who
stands plain speaking from one like me has something
very noble and generous in her. Were you here
all the time, Rosie? I don’t wonder you
were tired.”
“No, Aunt Ermine, I went and told Violetta and
Augustus a fairy tale out of my own head.”
“Indeed; and how did they like it?”
“Violetta looked at me all the time, and Augustus
gave three winks, so I think he liked it.”
“Appreciated it!” said Aunt Ermine.
THE HERO.
“And which is Lucy’s? Can
it be
That puny fop, armed cap-a-pie,
Who loves in the saloon to show
The arms that never knew a foe.”—Scott.
“My lady’s compliments, ma’am, and
she would he much obliged if you would remain till
she comes home,” was Coombe’s reception
of Alison. “She is gone to Avoncester with
Master Temple and Master Francis.”
“Gone to Avoncester!” exclaimed Rachel,
who had walked from church to Myrtlewood with Alison.
