“Unnecessary pain! I do not think it is any body’s duty to bear unnecessary pain.”
“Nor to make others bear it?”
“Nor to make others bear it.”
“Then we need argue no further. I congratulate you, Mr. Forester, upon your becoming so soon a proselyte to politeness.”
“To politeness!” said Forester, starting back.
“Yes, my good sir; real politeness only teaches us to save others from unnecessary pain; and this you have just allowed to be your wish.—And now for the grand affair of Flora’s flower-pot. You are not bound by politeness to tell any falsehoods; weak as she is, and a woman, I hope she can bear to hear the painful truth upon such an important occasion.”
“Why,” said Forester, who at last suffered his features to relax into a smile, “the truth then is, that I don’t know whether the flower-pot be pretty or ugly, but I was determined not to say it was pretty.”
“But why,” said Henry, “did you look so heroically severe about the matter?”
“The reason I looked grave,” said Forester, “was, because I was afraid your sister Flora would be spoiled by all the foolish compliments that were paid to her and her flower-pot.”
“You are very considerate; and Flora, I am sure, is much obliged to you,” said Dr. Campbell, smiling, “for being so clear-sighted to the dangers of female vanity. You would not then, with a safe conscience, trust the completion of her education to her mother, or to myself?”