“I begin to think there are different sorts of education. One kind I am going to attempt is learning the land. I will have to begin at the A B C of it, just as I did in reading printed stuff. But the earth is printed, too, and by a Hand that does nothing in vain. Most boys run away from the country because there is no money in it. I am going to hunt for something which will beat money.”
“Youth! my brother! Just youth. After a while I suppose you will find, as old Dolloway says, that ‘money beats sentiment.’”
“Yes—and malaria beats both! I’ve been warned against too much night-dew, if I want to keep my health.”
“Why, isn’t this a healthful place?” cried Isabelle, in quick alarm. “If it isn’t we should never have brought Mother here!”
“It is. Mr. Brook is eighty years old, and he has lived here almost all his life. But he spoke to me about our being careful, particularly at first. He said, and truly, that our health is our capital; and that if we use reasonable precaution we shall never suffer.”
“Well, I know now that you have grown wise! I cannot remember when I ever heard you mention health as a thing to be guarded,—our health, I mean. You have been solicitous enough about Mother’s, except—”
“Except in what? Don’t throw cold water on me now, after warming my vanity like that!”
“Except when you gave up your situations so readily, because your ‘boss’ ‘sassed’ you!”
“I think it’s time to go in, Isabelle.”
“So do I. I couldn’t have supported any more wise remarks! They sound so—so un-Roland like.”