“That is a very patriarchal remark for a young man like you to make,” returned Mrs. Estabrook, smiling.
“I suppose,” the young man replied, “that I am older than men usually are at my age. I have been my mother’s man ever since my father died, and perhaps I see the beauty of character earlier than men usually do. Yet I do like to look at pretty girls.”
“No doubt; that is quite natural. I do myself.”
“But,” returned Mr. Danforth, slowly, “I don’t believe I would ever fall in love with a beauty, unless the beauty of her spirit were more evident than that of her features.”
“Take care,” warned his companion. “I am afraid you will never find your ideal, or else, like too many who talk as you do, you will finally be captured by an unscrupulous girl who has hoodwinked you by appearing to have a lofty spirit when she is only catering to your fancy.”
The young man shook his head positively. “I don’t think that possible; for that very reason I would not flatter a girl. A woman who is to be won by compliments is not yielding to an affection which can uplift her, and the man who is willing to win a woman by such means does not deserve to find in her a noble helpmeet.”
“Poor girls,” returned Mrs. Estabrook, mockingly, “who love to be flattered and are confronted by a man of theories.”
“Now, Mrs. Estabrook, I hope I don’t impress you as being a man with a self-righteous soul. You do not know how much I have thought of all this, and how I have kept a watch over myself lest I should be led away by a mere exterior charm. I repeat it, a man ought to help a woman up to the best within her, and how can he do so if he simply adds to her vanity?” Then he added, reverently, “Don’t you see, Mrs. Estabrook, that the feeling that a man must be such a help to a woman ought to make him strive to the uttermost to be a good man. Oh, please don’t imagine I think we men are saints. That’s just it, we need to have more moral strength, and the ones who can best help us are the women, like you and my mother, who do not live for admiration, but for the happiness of others,—women whose unselfishness and unconsciousness of having attractions give them a greater charm than all the little airs and graces in the world. Miss Persis, now, doesn’t begin to know how attractive a woman she will be.”
“My dear young Daniel come to judgment,” replied Mrs. Estabrook, ignoring the last part of his speech. “Do you know you are flattering an old woman? For shame!”
“No, no; that isn’t flattery! You are superior to that sort of thing. It is simply a young man’s recognition of a good woman’s influence.”