‘Oh! she is so very good; I wish she could endure me.’
‘So do I,’ said John. ‘I have neglected her, and now I reap the fruits. In that great house at home people live so much apart, that if they wish to meet, they must seek each other. And I never saw her as a child but when she came down in the evening, with her great black eyes looking so large and fierce. As a wild high-spirited girl I never made acquaintance with her, and now I cannot.’
‘But when you were ill this last time, did she not read to you, and nurse you?’
‘That was not permitted; there might have been risk, and besides, as Arthur says, I only wish to be let alone. I had not then realized that sympathy accepted for the sake of the giver will turn to the good of the receiver. No; I have thrown her away as far as I am concerned; and when I see what noble character and religious feeling there is with that indomitable pride and temper, I am the more grieved. Helen walked with her twice or three times when she was at Martindale, and she told me how much there was in her, but I never tried to develop it. I thought when Helen was her sister—but that chance is gone. That intractable spirit will never be tamed but by affection; but, unluckily, I don’t know,’ said John, smiling, ‘who would marry Theodora.’
‘Oh! how can you say so? She is so like Arthur.’
John laughed. ‘No, I give up the hope of a Petruchio.’
‘But Mr. Wingfield, I thought—’
‘Wingfield!’ said John, starting. ‘No, no, that’s not likely.’
‘Nor Lord St. Erme!’
‘I hope not. He is fancy-bit, I suppose, but he is not her superior. Life with him would harden rather than tame her. No. After all, strangely as she has behaved about him, when she has him in sight, I suspect there is one person among us more likely to soften her than any other.’