“To be sure, but I wish it wasn’t so.”
“Yes; but, Ethel, whose doing is his getting into this state?”
Ethel looked grave. “It was wrong of me,” said she, “but then papa is not sure that Greek would hurt him.”
“Not sure, but he thinks it not wise to run the risk. But, Ethel, dear, why are you so bent on his being dux at all costs?”
“It would be horrid if he was not.”
“Don’t you remember you used to say that outward praise or honour was not to be cared for as long as one did one’s duty, and that it might be a temptation?”
“Yes, I know I did,” said Ethel, faltering, “but that was for oneself.”
“It is harder, I think, to feel so about those we care for,” said Margaret; “but after all, this is just what will show whether our pride in Norman is the right true loving pride, or whether it is only the family vanity of triumphing over the Andersons.”
Ethel hung her head. “There’s some of that,” she said, “but it is not all. No—I don’t want to triumph over them, nobody would do that.”
“Not outwardly perhaps, but in their hearts.”