this money by their grandfather's will as their due, and from our
hands as a gift--(the way in which they will look at it). The letter
to you was sent off without delay, in order that, in case of any
dissatisfaction whatever on your part, your wishes might have the
better chance of being made known to us during the old gentleman's
life. I doubt not that your thoughts, whatever they may be, will be
on the way to me before this reaches you; and I can have as little
doubt what they are. You know Mr Blunt says, that men are created to
rob their sisters,--a somewhat partial view of the objects and
achievements of mortal existence, it must be owned, and a statement
which I conceive the course of your life, for one, will not go to
confirm; but a man must have had a good deal of experience, of what he
is talking of, before he could make so sweeping a generalisation from
the facts of life; and I am afraid Mr Blunt has some reason for what
he says. Medical men receive many confidences in sick rooms, you
know; and some, among others, which had better be reserved for the
lawyer. What I have seen in this way leads me to imagine that my
grandfather's notion is a very common one,--that women have little
occasion for money, and do not know how to manage it; and that their
property is to be drawn upon to the very last, to meet the
difficulties and supply the purposes of their brothers. On the utter
injustice and absurdity of such a notion there can be no disagreement
between you and me; nor, I imagine, in our actions with regard to it.
"I heard from Emily yesterday. The letter is more than half full of
stories about the children, and accounts of her principles and plans
with regard to them. She writes on the same subjects to you, no
doubt, for her heart is full of them. Her husband finds the post of
consul at a little Spanish port rather a dull affair, as we
anticipated, and groans at the mention of Bristol or Liverpool
shipping, he says. But I like the tone of his postscript very well.
He is thankful for the honest independence his office affords him, and
says he can tolerate his Spanish neighbours (though they are as
ignorant as Turkish ladies), for the sake of his family, and of the
hope of returning, sooner or later, to live in his own country, after
having discharged his duty to his children. Theirs must be an irksome
life enough, as much of it as is passed out of their own doors: but
they seem to be finding out that it is not so much the _where_ and the
_how_, as the _what_ people are, that matters to their peace of mind;
and I suppose those who love each other, and have settled what they
are living for, can attain what they most want, nearly so well in one
place as another.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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