“In the meantime much folly may be perpetrated,” said Lady Lamerton sadly. “Do look how much has been spent in the restoration of Orleigh. You have undone all that your grandfather had done. He overlaid the stone with stucco, and knocked out the mullions of the windows for the insertion of sashes, and painted over drab all the oak that was not cut away. So are we in later years restoring the mistakes made in ourselves, perhaps by our parents in our bringing up, but certainly, also, by our own folly and bad taste in youth. And well for us if there is still solid stone to be cleared of plaster, and rich old oak to be cleared of the paint that obscures it. What I dread is lest the iconoclastic spirit should be so strong in the girl that she may hack and tear down in her violent passion for change what can never be recovered and re-erected.” “She is not without principle.” “She mistakes her caprices for principles. Her own will is the ruling motive of all her actions, she has no external canon to which she regulates her actions and submits her will.” “What caprice has she got now?” “She has taken a violent fancy to the society of young Saltren.” “Oh! he is harmless.” “I am not so certain of that. He is morbid and discontented.” “Discontented! About what? Faith—he must be hard to please then. Everything has been done for him that could be done.” “Possibly for that reason he is discontented. Some men like to make their own fortunes, not to have them made for them. You have, in my opinion, done too much for the young fellow.” “He was consumptive and would certainly have died, had I not sent him abroad.” “Yes—but after that?” “Then he was unfit for manual labour, and he was an intelligent lad, refined, and delicate still. So I had him educated.” “Are you sure he is grateful for what you have done for him?” Lord Lamerton shrugged his shoulders. “I never gave a thought to that. I suppose so.” “I am not sure that he is. Look at children, they accept as their due everything given them, all care shown them, and pay no regard to the sacrifices made for them. There is no conscious gratitude in children. I should not be surprised if it were the same with young Saltren. I do not altogether trust him. There is a something in him I do not like. He does his duty by Giles. He is respectful to you and me—and yet—I have no confidence in him.” “Julia,” said Lord Lamerton with a laugh. “I know what it is, you mistrust him because he is not a gentleman by birth.”