“Read Temple now, and try to put me in better temper with him than I feel at this moment.”
“I could n't feel angry with Temple,” said she, quietly. “All he does and all he says so palpably springs from consideration of self, that it would be unjust to resent in him what one would not endure from another. In fact, he means no harm to any one, and a great deal of good to Temple Bramleigh.”
“And you think that commendable?”
“I have not said so; but it certainly would not irritate me.”
She opened the letter after this and read it over leisurely.
“Well, and what do you say now, Nelly?” asked he.
“That it's Temple all over; he does not know why in this shipwreck every one is not helping to make a lifeboat for him. It seems such an obvious and natural thing to do that he regards the omission as scarcely credible.”
“Does he not see—does he not care for the ruin that has overtaken us?”
“Yes, he sees it, and is very sorry for it; but he opines, at the same time, that the smallest amount of the disaster should fall to his share. Here's something very different,” said she, taking a letter from her pocket. “This is from Julia. She writes from her little villa at Albano, and asks us to come and stay with them.”
“How thoroughly kind and good-natured!”