he was very meek and depressed always. I
think she was glad none of them came to the wedding except the Blackpool
sister, for she didn't want Daddie to see them. He thought the Blackpool
sister dreadful (he told me afterwards that she 'exacerbated his mind
and offended his eye'), but he was charming to her and never said a word
to Fay."
"I don't see much sign of Hugo and his people in the children."
"We can't tell, they're so little. One thing does comfort me, they show
no disposition to tell lies; but that, I think, is because they have
never been frightened. You see, everyone bowed down before them; and
whatever Indian servants may be in other respects, they seem to me
extraordinarily kind and patient with children."
"Jan, what are your views about the bringing up of children?... You've
never said ... and I should like to know. You see, we're both"--here Meg
sighed deeply and looked portentously grave--"in a position of awful
responsibility."
They were sitting on each side of the hearth, with their toes on the
fender. Meg had been sewing at an overall for little Fay, but at that
moment she laid it on her knee and ran her hands through her cropped
hair, then about two inches long all over her head, so that it stood on
end in broken spirals and feathery curls above her bright eyes. In the
evening the uniform was discarded "by request."
Jan looked across at her and laughed.
So funny and so earnest; so small, and yet so great with purpose.
"I don't think I've any views. R. L. S. summed up the whole duty of
children ages ago, and it's our business to see that they do it--that's
all. Don't you remember:
A child should always say what's true,
And speak when he is spoken to,
And behave mannerly at table:
At least as far as he is able.
It's no use to expect too much, is it?"
"If you expect to get the second injunction carried out in the case of
your niece you're a most optimistic person. For three weeks now I've
been perambulating Kensington Gardens with those children, and I have
never in the whole course of my life entered into conversation with so
many strangers, and it's always she who begins it. Then complications
arise and I have to intervene. I don't mind policemen and park-keepers
and roadmen, but I rather draw the line at idly benevolent old gentlemen
who join our party and seem to spend the whole morning with us...."
"But, Meg, that never happens when I'm with you. I confess I
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