Gertrude was one of the chief cares upon Ethel's mind. She spent many thoughts upon the child, and even talked her over with Flora.
'What is it, Flora? is it my bad management? She is a good girl, and a dear girl; but there is such a want of softness about her.'
'There is a want of softness about all the young ladies of the day,' returned Flora.
'I have heard you say so, but—'
'We have made girls sensible and clear-headed, till they have grown hard. They have been taught to despise little fears and illusions, and it is certainly not becoming.'
'We had not fears, we were taught to be sensible.'
'Yes, but it is in the influence of the time! It all tends to make girls independent.'
'That's very well for the fine folks you meet in your visits, but it does not account for my Daisy—always at home, under papa's eye—having turned nineteenth century—What is it, Flora? She is reverent in great things, but not respectful except to papa, and that would not have been respect in one of us—only he likes her sauciness.'
'That is it, partly.'
'No, I won't have that said,' exclaimed Ethel. 'Papa is the only softening influence in the house—the only one that is tender. You see it is unlucky that Gertrude has so few that she really does love, with anything either reverend or softening about them. She is always at war with Charles Cheviot, and he has not fun enough, is too lumbering altogether, to understand her, or set her down in the right way; and she domineers over Hector like the rest of us. I did hope the babies might have found out her heart, but, unluckily, she does not take to them. She is only bored by the fuss that Mary and Blanche make about them.