Mr. Cullen. “Yes; and so are Cornish & Brothers. They are much more substantial.”
Mrs. Hedelquiver. “The Nicaragua route, the Panama rail-road, free trade, and so on—Frederic and Rosamonde think that these are going to do not a little toward making this world all over new. They think they are going to do their part in putting down wars and every sort of thing that isn’t brotherly and according to what the gospel enjoins. Monde, have you water? Oh yes, I see. Now I’ve tried again and again to see what connection there can possibly be between peace and the Panama rail-road, for instance; and I can’t. I don’t half believe there is any—do you, Alfred?”
Mr. Cullen, laughing. “Oh yes, mother?”
Mrs. Hedelquiver. “Yes, I suppose you do. You and Frederic, and Monde think just alike about every thing, I see. Have some more chocolate, Alfred.”
Scene 2. The Hall.
Mrs. Hedelquiver. “What do you want to say to me, dear?”
Monde. “I want to tell you—why, aunt, you see I want to write mornings, and then ride when I am tired of it—just as I have done all along. And I have been thinking that Mr. Cullen may feel that it belongs to him to—why, to see to me some, perhaps sometimes to ride with me. But it don’t, you know. I would rather attend to myself, and go alone, as I have done. So you wont let him think, will you, dear aunt, that it is necessary for him on any account, or at any time, to go with me any where.”
Mrs. Hedelquiver. “Why?”
Monde. “Because, if you do, aunt, it will put a disagreeable restraint upon him, and make me very unhappy. I have always been used, you know, to depending upon myself. I have never been a favorite of the gentlemen, or of anybody, except a few kind people who would see that there was something in me somewhere that deserved to be loved.”
Mrs. Hedelquiver. “And this has been a grief to you, dear, Monde? and is at this minute, as I know by the sound of your voice.”