Of course Cherry was set to talk to Angela—an operation that she hated almost as much as Felix did; and the result of which attempt was this, 'Now don't—don't, Cherry!'—hugging her round the neck; 'you never were made for scolding, and it is no use spoiling your own pleasure and mine! Leave it to Wilmet; she does it with dignity, you know!'
'But, Angel, I do really want to understand why you are so set against German?'
'It's a nasty crack-jaw language, that all the infidels write their books in.'
'I only wish they did!' murmured Cherry.
'And it's the Protestant language, too; and that's worse,' persisted Angela. 'No, I won't learn it on principle.'
'I thought principle was to do what one was told.'
'That depends. Now, German will never be of use to me; I'm not going to be a governess, and I sha'n't qualify myself for it!'
'Yes, Angel, I know what you mean; but isn't obedience the qualification you must learn—if you are to come to the other thing?'
'I shall learn it fast enough when the time comes. Don't you know, Cherry, a republic is much better preparation for despotism than one of your shilly-shally rational limited monarchies?'
'That may be true,' said Cherry; 'but you know I think the rational loyalty the most wholesome training.'