She slipped her hand into his, doubtful whether he would agree with what she was about to say, and instinctively and half unconsciously seeking to propitiate him, as she would have to do for all the days of their married life, if she was to act upon the convictions that were hers, but were indifferent to him.
"You wouldn't always want to have her at home if she wanted to go away? They have the right to develop along their own lines—the children."
Nicholas gave her a shrewd glance.
"You didn't get much of a chance that way, did you? I shall leave it to you, my dear. It's the mother's job to bring up her daughters, isn't it, and her son, too, for that matter, till he goes to school. Do you know what Ignatius Loyola used to say?"
"I don't think so. Tell me."
"'Give me a child until he is seven years old. After that any one may have him who wills,'" quoted Nicholas. "So you see that according to that, it's the early years that count."
"I believe it's true," she exclaimed.
"So do I. Those are the impressions that remain longest. I've lived a good many more years in this funny old world than you have, my dear, and I flatter myself that my memory is as good as that of most people——" he paused.
"Eh, Lily?"
"Your memory is a very good one, Nicholas."