‘You speak most eloquently, Mrs. Plowden,’ said Mrs. Swinford, ‘the very greatest a woman can be called upon to bear.’
‘It is very kind of you,’ said Lady William, ‘to feel so much for me.’
‘Yes, yes, the very greatest: and she has taken it so well. But naturally it makes a great difference. My daughter Emmy is considered by everybody to be extremely like her aunt,’ said Mrs. Plowden, directing with a look the attention of the party to Emmy, who bridled and drew up her long neck with that little forward movement which was like a peck, but did not at all mean anything of the kind.
Mrs. Swinford gave poor Emmy a look—one of those full, undisguised looks which again women of the world alone permit themselves; but she made no remark—which was very eloquent, more so than many remarks. She said, after a time, with the air of a person who has been puzzling her brains to keep up a conversation:
‘You have other daughters?’ adding to her question a smile of great sweetness, as if there was nothing in the world she was more interested in.
‘One,’ said Mrs. Plowden, much gratified, ‘Florence, named after another aunt, and more like my side of the house. And I have a son, who we hoped would have gone into the Church; but he is like so many young men of the present day, he has religious difficulties. And the Rector thinks it is not right to force his inclinations, especially into a sacred profession. I have great confidence in my husband’s judgment, but I don’t quite agree with him on this point; for I think if you only use a little pressure upon them when they are young, they are often most truly grateful to you afterwards, when they begin to understand the claims of life. I wonder,’ said Mrs. Plowden, with a glance at Leo, who was once more leaning over Lady William’s chair, ‘whether you agree with me? I should like to have the support of your opinion, for you must have experience in dealing with the young.’
Mrs. Swinford had delicately intimated her entire indifference to the homily of the clergyman’s wife for some time past, but she was recalled by this appeal, which amused her.
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I have a son; but I do not think I have attempted to force his inclinations,’ she added, after a pause.
‘Ah, then you would agree with James! I am sorry, for it would have been a great support to me; but we must all judge for ourselves in these matters—and in such a question as entering a sacred profession——’
‘Leo,’ said Mrs. Swinford, ‘we are forgetting: our habits are not yet quite English. Offer Lady William some tea.’