A change was inevitable. Phillis would willingly have stayed on at Carnarvon Square, where the Twins amused her, and the lawyer Joseph was kind to her. But Mrs. Cassilis explained that this was impossible; that steps would have to be taken with regard to her future; and that the wishes of her guardian must be consulted till she was of age.
"You are now nineteen, my dear. You have two years to wait. Then you will come into possession of your fortune, and you will be your own mistress, at liberty to live where and how you please."
Phillis listened, but made no reply. It was a new thought to her that in two years she would be personally responsible for the conduct and management of her own life, obliged to think and decide for herself, and undertaking all the responsibilities and consequences of her own actions. Then she remembered Abraham Dyson's warning and maxims. They once fell unheeded on her brain, which was under strict ward and tutelage, just like exhortations to avoid the sins of the world on the ears of convent girls. Now she remembered them.
"Life is made up of meeting bills drawn on the future by the improvidence of youth."
This was a very mysterious maxim, and one which had often puzzled her. Now she began to understand what was meant.
"The consequences of our own actions are what men call fate. They accompany us like our shadows."
Hitherto, she thought, she had had no chance of performing any action of her own at all. She forgot how she asked Jack Dunquerque to luncheon and went to the Tower with him.
"Every moment of a working life may be a decisive victory."
That would begin in two years' time.
"Brave men act; philosophers discuss; cowards run away. The brave are often killed: the talkers are always left behind; the cowards are caught and cashiered."