PART XVI.—AN INTELLECTUAL PRIVILEGE.
Scene XXV.—The Chinese Drawing Room. Time—About 9.45 P.M.
Mrs. Earwaker. Yes, dear Lady Lullington, I've always insisted on each of my girls adopting a distinct line of her own, and the result has been most satisfactory. Louisa, my eldest, is literary; she had a little story accepted not long ago by The Milky Way; then Maria is musical; practises regularly three hours every day on her violin. Fanny has become quite an expert in photography—kodaked her father the other day in the act of trying a difficult stroke at billiards; a back view—but so clever and characteristic!
Lady Lullington (absently). A back view? How nice!
Mrs. Earw. He was the only one of the family who didn't recognise it at once. Then my youngest, Caroline—well, I must say that for a long time I was quite in despair about Caroline. It really looked as if there was no single thing that she had the slightest bent or inclination for. So at last I thought she had better take up Religion, and make that her speciality.
Lady Lull. (languidly). Religion! How very nice!
Mrs. Earw. Well, I got her a Christian Year and a covered basket, and quantities of tracts, and so on; but, somehow, she didn't seem to get on with it. So I let her give it up; and now she's gone in for poker-etching instead.
Lady Lull. (by an act of unconscious cerebration). Poker-etching! How very very nice!
[Her eyelids close gently.
Lady Rhoda. Oh, but indeed, Lady Culverin, I thought he was perfectly charmin'; not a bit booky, you know, but as clever as he can stick; knows more about terriers than any man I ever met!