"Mother cares for nothing but money," Agneta said, and I was afraid there might be some truth in this statement. "Because Ralph is poor, she cannot say a good word for him. If he were rich, she would not mind what his past had been."
"His past!" I said. "What about that?"
"Oh, nothing," she returned; "only mother listens to gossip. He is so clever, Nan; he has written a play! Of course, his salary at the bank is small; we should be poor, but I should not mind poverty with the man I loved."
I was silent, reflecting that Agneta's ideas of poverty were probably very vague.
"I mean to marry him, whatever mother may say," Agneta said presently. "I shall soon be of age, and then I will do as I like. She shall not spoil my life."
"Oh, Agneta, don't talk like that! It frightens me," I said. "You might spoil your life just by taking your own way."
"What do you mean, Nan?" she asked.
"Only that we are so blind and ignorant that we cannot know what is good for us unless we are sure that God is guiding our steps," I said timidly. "I did not at all like having to give up my studies and come down here; but it was God's will for me, and I know now that it is for my good. If only you would be patient, Agneta, and leave your life in God's hands, He would bring it about in His own good time if—"
Here my cousin, who had turned upon me an astonished and impatient glance, rudely exclaimed:
"Oh, don't preach to me, Nan, if you please. I cannot stand that. I see I have shocked you, but I cannot help it. You won't say anything to your aunt, will you?"