“Not necessarily brilliant, but there are things we have always enjoyed which must be looked for—a good name, position, the right to meet people brought up as we have been, on an equal footing.”
Muriel broke in upon her with a strained laugh.
“Once, for a little while, it looked as if we should have to do without them, and somehow I wasn’t very much alarmed. But your list’s rather short and incomplete. There are one or two quite as important things you might have added to it; though perhaps I’m exacting.”
There was silence for a few moments, and a faint flicker of color crept into Mrs. Colston’s face while the girl mused. Her sister had got all she asked for, but Muriel suspected that she was not content; now and then, indeed, she had seen a hint of weariness in her expression. Harry Colston made a model husband in some respects, but he had his limitations. His virtues were commonplace and sometimes tedious; his intelligence was less than his wife’s. Muriel was fond of him, but his unwavering good-nature and placidity irritated her. She was inclined to be sorry for her sister in some ways.
“Muriel,” Mrs. Colston resumed gently, “your happiness means a good deal to me. A mistake might cost you dear, and, after all, one cannot have everything.”
“That is obviously true. I suppose it’s a question of what one values most, or perhaps what most strongly appeals to one’s fancy. It would be difficult to fix an accurate standard for judging suitors by, wouldn’t it?” Then her tone grew scornful. “Besides, as those who are eligible aren’t numerous, a girl’s expected to wait with an encouraging smile and thankfully take what comes.”
Mrs. Colston looked at her reproachfully.
“You’re hardly just, my dear; I only urge you to be prudent now.”
“Prudence is such a cold-blooded thing! I’m afraid I never had it. After all, what seems wise to me might appear to be folly to you. I think if ever what looks like a chance of happiness is offered me, I shall take all risks and clutch at it.”
She picked up a book, as if to intimate that she had no more to say, and Mrs. Colston wondered whether her worst fears were justified or whether Muriel had been behaving with unusual perverseness. In either case, she might make things worse by laboring the subject. She hesitated a moment and then went out in search of her husband.