“We all says that.”
He pressed her hand. She divined somehow that he was speaking with difficulty, speaking rather to himself than to her, conjuring up a picture which she beheld but dimly.
“You are little more than a child, but have you ever thought of what it means when two persons live together and work together for fifty years?”
“I have thought o’ that lately, Uncle Ben.”
“Eugenics begin there, my maid. Two persons living together and working together, not entirely for themselves but for others. Now, Prue, have you thought of the others?”
“What others?” she whispered.
“Your—children.”
“Ye—es. But I hope there won’t be too many o’ they, uncle.”
“Mind your grammar. You speak well enough before the quality. Now, child, I’ve broken the ice for a modest maid. Eugenics mean care and thought for those who come after us. Sir Geoffrey looks upon all of you as his children. He gave up the hounds to build more cottages. He takes a real interest in every colt and lamb and calf and child born in Nether Applewhite.”
Prudence considered this, with her head on one side.