“They’ve got more antiques in the house, and have had for about a thousand years, than goes through the shop in a twelvemonth,” returned Rose with candour.
“You can take some catalogues with you when you go back,” said her uncle, unmoved.
“All right. If I do go back.”
“If?”
“Uncle, I do want to bring up Cecil my own way, and I’ve been wondering if him and me need go back to Squires at all.”
“My dear niece, listen to me. You are flying in the face of Providence when you suggest quarrelling with those who are prepared to give your child all the advantages to which he is entitled, but which you yourself are not in a position to bestow upon him. Wealth is dross compared to the riches of the Spirit, and the highest in the land are but as the beasts of the field that perish, if they know not Christ,” said Uncle Alfred with great rapidity, “but you should look upon all these things as being means to an end. You can do a great deal for others with riches at your command.”
His eyes glistened covetously, and Rose remembered her mother’s tolerant verdict that Uncle Alfred was always on the near side, unless it was for a Foreign Mission.
“Haven’t they offered to send Cecil to a good school?”
“Not so much offered, as taken it for granted that I’d want him to go.”
“It is most handsome—most handsome. I consider you a very fortunate woman, Rose. And if, when the boy has gone to school, you wish to return to your old quarters here, I am perfectly prepared to come to an arrangement with you.”