“Yes, but these delights are for myself; there is nothing for them,” nodding towards “Merry Meetings.” “I am the only person who will benefit by this visit, and I am sure I am more wanted at home than out in India. Jessie cannot do everything, her writing takes up her time; and I look after the house and garden. And then there is Fairy; she cannot bear me to leave her.”
“You have spoiled Fairy among you,” cried the rector, irritably. “Only the other day she was crazy to go to India herself. She must learn to give up, like other people. It is very wrong to sacrifice yourself to the whims and fancies of your sister; in the long run they will become a yoke of dreadful bondage. Remember that you are not a puppet, nor an idiot, but a free, rational agent.”
“Yes,” assented the girl. She knew she was now in for one of Mr. Kerry’s personal lectures. It might be over in two or three minutes, and it might continue for half an hour.
“Now listen to me, Honor. I know you are a good, honest young woman, and think this plan will only benefit yourself. You are wrong. Your mother is in poor health; her pension dies with her. If you offend your only near relative, how are you to exist?”
“I suppose we can work. Every woman ought to be able to earn her bread—even if it is without butter.”
“Honor, I did not know that you held these emancipated views. I hope you won’t let any other man hear you airing them. As for work! Can Fairy work? Jessie, I know, can earn a few pounds, but she could barely keep herself; and if you fall sick, what will you do? It is best to survey matters from every standpoint. Your aunt and uncle have practically offered to adopt you. You will return in a year’s time; you will have made many friends for yourself and sisters, developed your own at present limited views of the world, and bring many new interests into your life. Your absence from home will be a considerable saving. Have you thought of that?”
“A saving!” she echoed incredulously.
“Of course! Don’t you eat? A healthy girl like you cannot live on air; and there is your dress.”
“I make my own dresses.”
“Nonsense!” with an impatient whirl of his stick. “You don’t make the material. How can you be so stubborn, so wilfully blind to your own interests. If another girl had your chances, Honor Gordon would be the very first to urge her to go; and that in her most knock-me-down style. You have a much keener view where other people’s affairs are concerned than your own.”