“Oh, let him be, Temperance,” answered Aunt Joyce. “He knows a deal more about women than thou and I; ’tis so much shorter a time since he was one.”
Temperance laughed merrily, and Aubrey looked disconcerted.
“I think I care not much to be beautiful, Aunt, nor rich,” said Lettice: “only sufficient to be not uncomely nor tried of poverty. But so far as I myself can tell what I do most desire is to know things—all things that ever there be to know. I would like that, I think, above all.”
“To know God and all good things were a very good and wise wish, Lettice,” was Aunt Joyce’s answer; “but to know evil things, this was the very blunder that our mother Eve made in Eden. Prithee, repeat it not. Now, Aubrey, what is thy wish?”
“I would like to be a rich king,” said he. “Were I a fairy queen, Aubrey, I would not give thee thy wish: for thou couldst scarce make a worser. ‘They that will be rich fall into temptation and a snare,’ and they that seek power be little behind them. ‘Godliness is great riches,’ lad, ‘if a man be content with that he hath.’”
“Methinks, Aunt, that is one of your favourite texts,” remarked Edith.
“Ay,” said she, “it is. ‘Enough is as good as a feast.’ Hans, ’tis thy turn.”
Hans had sat gravely looking into the fire while the others talked. Now he looked up, and answered—
“Madam, I am ambitious more than a little. I desire to do God’s will, and to be content therewith.”
“Angels could win no further,” answered Aunt Joyce, with much feeling in her voice. “Ay, lad; thou hast flown at highest game of all.”