“I don’t know which are the happier,” said Mrs. Bowring at last, “the people who change, or the people who can’t.”
“You mean faithful or unfaithful people, I suppose,” observed the young girl with grave innocence.
A very slight flush rose in Mrs. Bowring’s thin cheeks, and the quiet eyes grew suddenly hard, but Clare was busy with her work again and did not see.
“Those are big words,” said the older woman in a low voice.
“Well—yes—of course!” answered Clare. “So they ought to be! It is always the main question, isn’t it? Whether you can trust a person or not, I mean.”
“That is one question. The other is, whether the person deserves to be trusted.”
“Oh—it’s the same thing!”
“Not exactly.”
“You know what I mean, mother. Besides, I don’t believe that any one who can’t trust is really to be trusted. Do you?”
“My dear Clare!” exclaimed Mrs. Bowring. “You can’t put life into a nutshell, like that!”