“Nobody reads,” said Mrs. Toote.
“Nobody?” asked Helen.
“Nobody that I know—except novels, of course.”
“And you prefer other kinds of books,” Helen said, impressed. “More solid reading?”
“Oh, I enjoy a good novel,” Mrs. Toote conceded; “but I don’t think people ought to confine themselves to fiction. There’s biography and philosophy, and—and social economy. All very interesting—to me.”
“Which are your favorite authors?” asked Helen, with deference.
Mrs. Toote thought a minute. “John Stuart Mill,” said she, “is a very fine writer. My husband has all his books. So is Herbert Spencer; we have all his, too. So is Sir Henry Cunninghame. Have you read The Chronicles of Dustypore?”
“I’m afraid not,” said Helen. “Is it very good?”
“Oh, awfully. You must read it. Then, of course, there’s Kipling. I’m devoted to Kipling.”
“Do you think he’s nice?” asked Mrs. Browne, doubtfully.