“I don’t know, my dear.”
“Don’t know!” exclaimed Anna.
“Yes, my dear, I really get confused sometimes as to what is mere lust of the eye, and what is regard to whatever things are lovely. I believe the principle is really in each case to try whether the high object or the gratification of the senses should stand first.”
“Well,” said Anna, laughing, “I suppose it is a high object not to alienate Gerald, as would certainly be done by the culture of the ugly—”
“Or rather of that which pretends to be the reverse, and is only fashion,” said her aunt, who meantime was moving about, adding nameless grace by her touch to all Anna’s arrangements.
“May I send for the things then?” said Anna demurely.
“Oh yes, certainly; and you had better get the study arm-chair for your uncle. There is nothing so comfortable here. But I have news for you. What do you say to having little Adrian here, to go to school with the Merrifield boy?”
“What fun! what fun! How delicious!” cried the sister, springing about like a child.
“I suspected that the person to whom he would give most trouble would feel it most pleasure.”
“You don’t know what a funny, delightful child he is! You didn’t see him driving all the little girls in a team four-in-hand.”