“Why should I suppose you wishful of casting aside that which the Lord has raised up for the widow and the orphan? Be thankful for their assistance, and do nothing to forfeit it, is my advice to you.”
The Scriptural turns of phrase employed by Mr. Smith rarely interfered with the eminent practicalness of his point of view.
“You don’t know what the life is like, at that place. I’d go mad if I had to go on there year after year. They never do anything but go for walks in the mud and talk about their beastly gardens and their horrid animals.”
“Fashionable folk are very godless, I understand,” said Uncle Alfred.
“I wouldn’t so much mind their being godless—and they aren’t, all—my mother-in-law is as ‘pi’ as can be—but they all seem to me to be half alive. There’s a girl there that they all seem dotty about—I daresay she’ll marry Ford one of these days. Well, I give you my word, Uncle, she’s a perfect fool. She can mess about with dogs and things, and shoot, and they all think she’s clever, just because of that. It shows you what they’re like, doesn’t it?”
“You need not adapt yourself to their standards,” Uncle Alfred said, uncompromising rather than tactful. “But I presume that when your boy once goes to school you will make your home elsewhere.”
“I haven’t made up my mind about Cecil going to school.”
“It is your duty to ensure the advantages of a good education for him, Rose. Did I understand that there is a governess engaged especially for him?”
“Yes. The best of everything is their motto, I will say that for them.”
“H’m. Are they interested in antiques—china and the like?”