“I can’t be sure!” said Ethel. “It may be more wrong to make George desert the post which—”
“Which I thrust him into,” said Flora. “My father told me as much.”
“I did not mean you to say that! But it is a puzzle. It seems as if it were right to give up such things; yet, when I recollect the difficulty of carrying an election right at Stoneborough, I think papa would be very sorry. I don’t think his interest would bring in any sound man but his son-in-law; and George himself seems to like his parliamentary life better than anything else.”
“Yes,” said Flora hesitatingly; for she knew it was true—he liked to think himself important, and it gave him something to think of, and regular occupation—not too active or onerous; but she could not tell Ethel what she herself felt; that all she could do for him could not prevent him from being held cheap by the men among whom she had placed him.
“Then,” said Ethel, as she heard her affirmative, “I don’t think it is for his dignity, for you to put him into Parliament to please you and then take him out to please you.”
“I’ll take care of his dignity,” said Flora shortly.
“I know you would do it well—”
“I am sick of doing things well!” said poor Flora. “You little know how I dread reading up all I must read presently! I shall lose all I have scarcely gained. I cannot find peace any way, but by throwing down the load I gave my peace for.”
“Whether this is truth or fancy,” said Ethel thoughtfully. “If you would ask some one competent.”
“Don’t you know there are some things one cannot ask?” said Flora. “I don’t know why I spoke to you! Ah! come in! Why, George, that is a finer egg than ever,” as he entered with a Shanghai egg in each hand, for her to mark with the date when it had been laid. Poultry was a new hobby, and Ethel had been hearing, in her tete-a-tete dinners with George, a great deal about the perfections of the hideous monsters that had obtained fabulous prices. They had been the best resource for conversation; but she watched, with something between vexation and softness, how Flora roused herself to give her full attention and interest to his prosing about his pets, really pleased as it seemed; and, at last, encouraging him actually to fetch his favourite cock to show her; when she went through the points of perfection of the ungainly mass of feathers, and did not at all allow Ethel to laugh at the unearthly sounds of disapproval which handling elicited.