"You always do,"—smiling. "Something Mrs. Strong said troubled me. Sarah is ambitious, she has a desire for education, and a longing for refinement,"—with deliberation in her slow tones. "But what if—she should be ashamed of her home, after all? It is not so very attractive,—pretty, I mean. Why, the only lovely thing in that great parlor was the bright blazing fire."
"If Sarah takes hold of the right end of life, she will try to make her home more pleasant for the others as well as herself."
"But, Uncle Robert, it is so hard to see when you are right in the midst of a thing,—a sort of muddle. A person standing on the outside would be likely to discover the best paths. And I thought—what if I should be the means of making her discontented instead of happy."
"So you are not quite convinced that it is wisest to sow beside all waters?"—with his peculiar smile.
"If I was certain I had the right seed."
"The seed is all alike,—love, faith, patience. Yes, I can catch your meaning,"—as the little face grew very sober. "You do not want to rouse her to a sense of and love for beauty to which she can never attain."
"That is it."
"I do not imagine you need begin to feel anxious immediately. Her crude attempts at beautifying will be very good exercise for her awakening brain, and she has so much of the practical to learn that she will be less likely to run into vanity, at least no more than one would naturally expect. If you choose, Kathie, you might help her in a very good work."