"I tell you, Edina, I am a very fair scholar. What else do you want at Oxford? You don't want experience there."
"Well for you, Charley, if it shall prove so," was Edina's answer, as she folded her work to go indoors; for the evening was drawing on, and the air felt chilly. Changed they all were, more than she could express. They saw with one set of eyes, she with another.
"What a tiresome thing Edina is getting!" exclaimed Alice to her brother, as Edina disappeared.
"A regular croaker."
"A confirmed old maid."
The only one who could not be said to have much changed, was Mrs. Raynor. She was gentle, meek, simple-mannered as ever: but even she was drawn into the vortex of visiting and gaiety, of show and expense, of parade and ceremony that had set in. She seemed to have no leisure to give to anything else. This day was the only quiet day Eagles' Nest had during Edina's visit. Mrs. Raynor, with her yielding will, could not help herself altogether. But Edina was grieved to see that she neglected the religious training of her young children. Even the hearing of their evening prayers was given over to the governess.
"Mademoiselle Delrue is a Protestant," said Mrs. Raynor; when, on this same evening, Edina ventured to speak a word upon the subject, as Kate and Robert said good-night and left the drawing-room.
"I know she is," said Edina. "But none but a mother should, in these vital matters, train her children. You always used to do it, Mary."
"If you only knew how fully my time and thoughts are occupied!" returned Mrs. Raynor, in a tone of great deprecation. "We live in a whirl here: and it is rather too much for me. And, to tell you the truth, Edina, I sometimes wonder whether the old life, with all its straitened means, was not the happier; whether we have in all respects improved matters, in coming to Eagles' Nest."