“Last Saturday! Why, that is ever so long ago,” she said. Then, with a sudden smile—“But it was so comical—that great tall Jack—”
“There is nothing comical in a young man’s submission to his parents’ wishes. It is grand rather than funny. Obedience is a nobler thing, Maimie, than doing what one likes.”
“I have always done what I liked,” she said.
“Yes, I daresay you have. That is self-pleasing. Anybody can be self-willed, easily enough. But some amount of self-control is needed for obedience.”
“Only there couldn’t possibly be any harm in the boys’ staying away an hour or two longer,” she objected.
“Perhaps not,” I said. “But you could not possibly judge. You know nothing of London. Still, the question does not hinge there. What I dread for my boys is, that you should teach them to think it manly to please themselves, and unmanly to love their home and to follow home-rules.”
“Oh, but I wouldn’t do that.” Then she laughed again, and said, “It sounds so funny to talk of my teaching a great fellow like Jack.”
“Great fellows are often more teachable than little fellows,” I said. “You can’t help teaching by influence, Maimie, one way or the other. All of us are always teaching and always learning. What I ask is that, while you are here, you should use your influence in a right way, not to make the boys do wrong.”
“Very well,” Maimie said. She spoke shortly, and I supposed her to be offended. But the next instant there was a sob, and she ran out of the room. Smiles and tears seemed very near together in Maimie Browne.