“I would rather have a distinct order,” said Eva, a little scornfully. “‘Do,’ or ‘Don’t,’ I can understand. But, ‘Saint Paul says this,’ or ‘Saint John says that,’ and to have to make up one’s own mind,—I detest it.”
“And I should detest the opposite.”
“I am afraid, Beatrice, thou art greatly wanting in the virtue of holy obedience. But of course one can make allowances for thine unhappy education.”
Eva had occasion to leave the room at the conclusion of this unflattering speech: and Beatrice indulged in a long laugh.
“Well, what I am afraid of,” she said to Margaret and Doucebelle, “is that Eva is rather wanting in the virtue of common-sense. But whether I am to lay that on her education, I do not know.”
There was no answer: but the thoughts of the hearers were almost opposites. Margaret considered Beatrice rash and self-satisfied. Doucebelle thought heartily with her, and only wished that she had as much courage to say so.