Part 16 (1/2)
”I don't think that money really makes people happy,” replied Elisabeth, strong in the unworldliness of those who have never known what it is to do without anything that money can buy.
”Of course not, my dear--of course not; nothing but religion can bring true happiness. Whenever I am tempted to be anxious about my children's future, I always check myself by saying, 'The Lord will provide; though I can not sometimes help hoping that the provision will be an ample one as far as Felicia is concerned, because she is so extremely nice-looking.”
”She is perfectly lovely!” exclaimed Elisabeth enthusiastically; ”and she gets lovelier and lovelier every time I see her. If I were to change places with all the rich men in the world, I should never do anything but keep on marrying Felicia.”
”Still, she could only marry one of you, my dear. But, between ourselves, I just want to ask you a few questions about a Mr. Thornley whom Felicia met at your house. I fancied she was a wee bit interested in him.”
”Interested in Chris! Oh! she couldn't possibly be. No girl could be interested in Christopher in that way.”
”Why not, my dear? Is he so unusually plain?”
”Oh! no; he is very good-looking; but he has a good head for figures and a poor eye for faces. In short, he is a sensible man, and girls don't fall in love with sensible men.”
”I think you are mistaken there; I do indeed. I have known many instances of women becoming sincerely attached to sensible men.”
”You don't know how overpoweringly sensible Christopher is. He is so wise that he never makes a joke unless it has some point in it.”
”There is no harm in that, my dear. I never see the point of a joke myself, I admit; but I like to know that there is one.”
”And when he goes for a walk with a girl, he never talks nonsense to her,” continued Elisabeth, ”but treats her exactly as if she were his maiden aunt.”
”But why should he talk nonsense to her? It is a great waste of time to talk nonsense; I am not sure that it is not even a sin. Is Mr. Thornley well off?”
”No. His uncle, Mr. Smallwood, is the general manager of our works; and Christopher has only his salary as sub-manager, and what his uncle may leave him. His mother was Mr. Smallwood's sister, and married a ne'er-do-weel-who left her penniless; at least, that is to say, if he ever had a mother--which I sometimes doubt, as he understands women so little.”
”Still, I think we can take that for granted,” said Mrs. Herbert, smiling with pride at having seen Elisabeth's little joke, and feeling quite a wit herself in consequence. One of the secrets of Elisabeth's popularity was that she had a knack of impressing the people with whom she talked, not so much with a sense of her cleverness as with a sense of their own. She not only talked well herself, she made other people talk well also--a far more excellent gift.
”So,” she went on, ”if his uncle hadn't adopted him, I suppose Chris would have starved to death when he was a child; and that would have been extremely unpleasant for him, poor boy!”
”Ah! that would have been terrible, my dear!” exclaimed Mrs. Herbert, so full of pity for Christopher that she was willing to give him anything short of her firstborn. She was really a kind-hearted woman.
Elisabeth looked out of the window at the group of stunted shrubs with black-edged leaves which ent.i.tled Felicia's home to be called Wood Glen.
”There is one thing to be said in favour of starvation,” she said solemnly, ”it would keep one from getting stout, and stoutness is the cruellest curse of all. I'd rather be dead than stout any day.”
”My dear child, you are talking nonsense. What would be the advantage of being thin if you were not alive?”
”When you come to that, what would be the advantage of being alive if you weren't thin?” retorted Elisabeth.
”The two cases are not parallel, my dear; you see you couldn't be thin without being alive, but you could be alive without being thin.”
”It is possible; I have come across such cases myself, but I devoutly trust mine may never be one of them. As the hymn says, I shall always be 'content to fill a little s.p.a.ce.'”
”Ah! but I think the hymn doesn't mean it quite in that sense. I believe the hymn refers rather to the greatness of one's attainments and possessions than to one's personal bulk.”
Elisabeth opened her eyes wide with an expression of childlike simplicity. ”Do you really think so?”
”I do, my dear. You know one must not take poetry too literally; verse writers are allowed what is termed 'poetic license,' and are rarely, if ever, quite accurate in their statements. I suppose it would be too difficult for anybody to get both the truth and the rhyme to fit in, and so the truth has to be somewhat adapted. But about Mr. Thornley, my love; you don't think that he and Felicia are at all interested in one another?”
”Good gracious, no! I'm sure they are not. If they had been, I should have spotted it and talked about it ages ago.”
”I hope you are not given to talk about such things, even if you do perceive them,” said Mrs. Herbert, with reproof in her tone; ”talking scandal is a sad habit.”