“You stopped me... Why shouldn’t I say it? If I don’t think Miss Mallison is the right girl, why mayn’t I—”
“These things get repeated. One can’t be too careful. I make it a rule to be silent, if I find myself unable to say what is agreeable.”
“How dull you would be! I say would, because it isn’t true. You’re scolding me now, and I’m sure that’s not agreeable! Dear Mrs Evans, do you think it is a suitable engagement?”
“Dear Mrs Beverley, how can I judge? Can anyone in the world decide whom a man or a woman will choose?”
“They can’t, but they can guess pretty well whom they won’t! You know them both, Captain Peignton and Miss Mallison; can you imagine them living together, and being satisfied all their lives?”
The older woman looked at the bride in silence. Hundreds of couples had she seen kneeling hand in hand in the chancel of the church, cheerfully plighting a troth which bound them together till death should them part, and of how many could it be said that they were satisfied! She knew too well into what a prosaic compromise the lives of many of these lovers degenerated, but she would have felt it a sacrilege to say as much to this bride of the happy eyes, and the gay, unclouded heart.
“My dear,” she said slowly, “if they think so themselves, it’s not my place to judge. It often puzzles one to understand why people choose one another, but I am a strong believer in nature! Nature is always working out her own great plan, and she dictates for the good of the race. You see it all around—the dark chooses the light, the tall chooses the short, the fat chooses the thin, the brilliant woman marries a sportsman, the man of letters a gentle house-frau. Nature has dictated in this case. Captain Peignton is not too strong, and his nerves have been taxed: Teresa doesn’t know what nerves are. I never knew a more healthy, normal girl.”
“Mrs Evans, you have known her for ages. Do you think she is interesting?”
But Mrs Evans was not to be trapped into personal expressions of feeling.
“It is quite immaterial what I think. I have known Teresa Mallison all her life, but, my dear, I know nothing about the Teresa whom Captain Peignton sees. He in his turn knows very little about the Teresa who will be his wife at the end of the first two or three years of married life.”