“A nice state of affairs!” continued the other angrily; “I knew
pretty well that his head was full of nonsense, but when I asked him
here I thought at least that he would know enough about good manners
to mind his own affairs. So he has been talking to you, has he? And
now you cannot possibly marry a rich man!”
Mrs. Roberts stopped, quite too angry to find any more words; but as
she sat for a minute or two, gazing at Helen, it must have occurred
to her that she would not accomplish anything in that way. She made
an effort to swallow her emotions.
“Helen, dear,” she said, sitting down near her niece, “why will you
worry me in this dreadful way, and make me speak so crossly to you?
I cannot tell you, Helen, what a torment it is to me to see you
throwing yourself away in this fashion; I implore you to stop and
think before you take this step, for as sure as you are alive you
will regret it all your days. Just think of it how you will feel,
and how I will feel, when you look back at the happiness you might
have had, and know that it is too late! And, Helen, it is due to
nothing in the world but to your inexperience that you have let
yourself be carried away by these sublimities. You MUST know, child,
and you can see if you choose, that they have nothing to do with
life; they will not butter your bread, Helen, or pay your coachman,
and when you get over all this excitement, you will find that what I
tell you is true. Look about you in the world, and where can you
find anybody who lives according to such ideas?”
“What ideas do you mean, Aunt Polly?” asked Helen, with a puzzled
look.
“Oh, don't you suppose,” answered the other, “that I know perfectly
well what kind of stuff it is that Mr. Howard has talked to you? I
used to hear all that kind of thing when I was young, and I believed
some of it, too,--about how beautiful it was to marry for love, and
to have a fine scorn of wealth and all the rest of it; but it wasn't
very long before I found out that such opinions were of no use in
the world.”
“Then you don't believe in love, Aunt Polly?” asked Helen, fixing
her eyes on the other.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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