“What was it, Graeme?”
“Oh! I can hardly tell you—something about the changes that come to us as we grow older, and how vain it is to think we can avoid our fate.”
“Our fate?” repeated Will.
“Oh, yes! I mean there are troubles—and pleasures, too, that we can’t foresee—that take us at unawares, and we have just to make the best of them when they come.”
“I don’t think I quite understand you, Graeme.”
“No, I daresay not; and it is not absolutely necessary that you should,—in the connection. But I am sure a great many pleasant things that we did not expect, have happened to us since we came here.”
“And was it thinking of these pleasant things that made you sigh?” asked Will.
“No. I am afraid I was thinking of the other kind of surprises; and I daresay I had quite as much reason to smile as to sigh. We can’t tell our trials at first sight, Will, nor our blessings either. Time changes their faces wonderfully to us as the years go on. At any rate, Janet’s advice is always appropriate; we must make the best of them when they come.”
“Yes;” said Will, doubtfully; he did not quite understand yet.
“For instance, Will, you were disconsolate enough when the doctor told you you must give up your books for an indefinite time, and now you are professing yourself quite content with headache and water-gruel—glad even at the illness that at first was so hard to bear.”