A Bed of Roses

by Walter Lionel George

'Oh, we don't get a chance, of course,' said Cora. 'I'll tell you how it is, Vic, you want too much. If you want anything in life you've got to want nothing, then whatever you get good seems jolly good.'

'You're a pessimist, Cora,' said Victoria smiling.

'Meaning I see the sad side? Don't you believe it. Every cloud has a silver lining, you know.'

'And every silver lining has a cloud,' said Victoria, sadly.

'Now, Vic,' answered Cora crossly, 'don't you go on like that. You'll only mope and mope. And what's the good of that, I'd like to know.'

'Oh, I don't know,' said Victoria, 'I like thinking of things. Sometimes I wish I could make an end of it. Don't you?'

'Lord, no,' said Cora, 'I make the best of it. You take my tip and don't think too much.'

Victoria bent down in her chair, her chin upon her open palm. Cora slapped her on the back.

'Cheer up,' she said, 'we'll soon be dead.'

Victoria had also attempted Gladys, but had discovered without surprise that her association with Cora had equalised their minds as well as the copper of their hair. Lottie never said much when attacked on a general subject, while Bella never said anything at all. Since the day when Victoria had attempted to draw her out on the fateful question 'What's the good of anything?' Bella Prodgitt had looked upon Victoria as a dangerous revolutionary. At times she would follow the firebrand round the shop with frightened and admiring eyes. For her Victoria was something like the brilliant relation of whom the family is proud without daring to acknowledge him.