The subdued passion in Annette's voice stirred anew the vague trouble in Aunt Maria's mind.
For a moment her own view of life, even her heroine's puny and universally admired repentance, tottered, dwindled. For a brief moment she saw that the writer of The Magnet made a great demand on his reader, and that Annette had passionately responded to it. For a moment Mr. Stirling's gentle, ruthless voice seemed to overthrow her whole position, to show her to herself as petty and trivial. For a moment she even doubted whether Crooks and Coronets had really effected the great change she perceived in Annette, and the doubt disheartened her still more. She withdrew resolutely into the stronghold of her success, and rose slowly to her feet.
"Well," she said, "it's time to go to bed. Close the shutters, Annette. It's very natural you should be impressed by The Magnet. I should have been at your age. Young people are always attracted by eloquence. But as one gets older I find one instinctively prefers plainer language, as one prefers plainer clothes, less word-painting, and more spiritual teaching."
It was already late, but Annette sat up still later writing a long letter to Mrs. Stoddart.
CHAPTER XX
"Yourself are with yourself the sole consortress
In that unleaguerable fortress;