"I know it is, or you would not lie railing there, like the melancholy Jacques, against fate. 'I met a fool,' quoth he, 'a motley fool.'"
"'Call me not fool till heaven has sent me fortune,'" growled Ted, with the spirit of reviving fun in his eyes.
"There, he is better now; when he begins to quote we may safely leave him, Queenie. I want you to come with me and call on the Cardinal Virtues; it is such a wet afternoon that they will be in strong force. Never mind Ted's grumbling, he cannot expect you to stay at home and talk to him; besides, he has 'David Copperfield' to amuse him."
"I'll pay you out for this," returned her brother, viciously. "Just as Miss Marriott and I had found out we were kindred spirits, and all that sort of thing.
'Oh, woman! in your hour of ease
A wretched bore, or else a tease;
When pain and sickness wring the brow
A downright duffer then art thou.'
Wasn't the old Caledonian one when he praised up the weaker portion of the community in that ridiculous fashion?" but as Cathy did not condescend to reply, the passage of arms stopped.
The sisterhood were all gathered in the pleasant parlor at the Evergreens. A bright-eyed, faded little woman lay on the couch in the bay window knitting some bright-coloured strips for an antimacassar. She looked up and nodded pleasantly as the friends entered.
"You always come to us on a wet afternoon, Catherine, when visitors are most welcome. Faith was reading to us; I dare say she will be glad of a rest by this time. We are in the fourth volume of D'Aubigné's 'Reformation.' Put a marker in the place, Faith, and then we shall lose no time when we open the book again. Do you know D'Aubigné, Miss Marriott? it is most improving reading for young people."
"Could this active-looking, talkative little woman be the hopeless invalid of whom she had heard so much?" Queenie asked herself, with some bewilderment, as she sat down in the comfortable chair that Miss Faith brought to her. Though it was summer a little fire burned in the grate; the window had been closed to exclude the dampness. Miss Faith's cheeks looked unusually pale; her eyes were full of a soft weariness.
"Charity is so fond of D'Aubigné; I think he tires me a little. It is very good reading, of course; but in this summer weather, and with the drip, drip of the rain on the leaves—"