“If Mary undertake the task of writing to my bailiff, she shall have the pleasure of writing to my friend.”
“She will not thank you for it, sir.”
“She will, and Signor Elvi too. He knows what precious qualities are necessary to constitute what you call a woman of business; and that such qualities make the most faithful and the tenderest friend.”
Anna looked contemptuous.
“I should be pleased with your humility in deferring to your sister, if I did not see that you despise the qualities you disclaim. I hope you will meet with such experience as shall make you wiser and more amiable.”
“My dear sir, I am in no wise inclined to quarrel with Mary for her superior cleverness. She is quite welcome to it. I am content with my lot—
‘The world forgetting, by the world forgot.’
Yes; I have no particular desire to be remembered by your bailiff or your lawyer, even for writing about leases as well as if I had been a very Nerissa—a lawyer’s clerk.”
“If you go on forgetting as you have done latterly, you will soon be forgotten, to your heart’s content. You will be forgotten when Elvi sits by his wife’s side, and tells his children of his faithful English friends. You will be forgotten when your father stretches out his hand from his death-bed to give his last blessing—or remembered in such a manner that you will pray to be forgotten.”
“O papa!” cried Mary, imploringly. Anna burst into tears.