When the last guest had departed General Garnet entered Alice’s parlor.
“Up yet, Mrs. Garnet! Have I been so unfortunate as to disturb your rest?”
“No—oh, no! I think you were very quiet for a party of gentlemen—not at all like the noisy parties Judge Wylie gathers. No; I had no opportunity of welcoming you home,” she said rising and offering her hand. “Have you had a pleasant journey?”
“A successful one, madam, which is better. I think that there can be no reasonable doubt that D—— will carry the majority of votes in the districts through which we traveled.”
Her next question was a housekeeper’s query:
“How did you like your supper, and were your guests pleased?”
“All was very well, Alice—and, could they be else than pleased after so triumphant a canvass?” said he, taking a seat and motioning Alice to do the same. “I have something to propose to you, Alice, in regard to our daughter.”
“Our daughter!” repeated she, with a vague fear creeping over her heart.
“Yes, our girl. I scarcely approve the loose, irregular manner in which her education is conducted at home.”
“It may appear to you so, because her occupations and amusements are so various; but, indeed, her habits—all habits, I mean, upon which health and improvement depend—are very regular; and for the rest, human nature itself—health, improvement—require some little irregularity. The rain does not fall and the sun shine upon set days. See what a bright, healthful, happy, intelligent child Elsie is! Part of that is owing to her habits. She rises very early, breakfasts early, rides with Magnus or one of the servants, returns and devotes three hours to her books.”