“I think so. Everything was made so smooth for us, and we had so few battles to fight. I sometimes think it might have been better for us if we had had more. Sheila, take my case; it is true I know nothing about this lost money, but in one sense the fault is mine. I always did the thing that was the easiest and pleasantest at the moment, though North warned me again and again that my easy-going ways were slovenly, and might lead to confusion and worse. I never quite believed him, and never seriously tried to conquer my tendencies, and you see what has happened. Whoever is to blame, the thing could not have been but for my fault.” “Well, I think that’s a very hard way of looking at it; but what then?” “I have not quite finished, Sheila; I want to talk about your case. It has been something the same with you, little sister. You have always liked to drift along easily with the current, doing what was pleasantest at the moment. If people were kind and made you welcome, you responded to all their overtures, without always stopping to think what Aunt Cossart would like, or if it were quite considerate to Effie. They were quite small things, but little by little they made trouble; and then came this great storm which has made you so miserable. You were not to blame, as I was; I don’t think you were ever warned, and it was difficult for you to see from day to day how things were going; but I think perhaps, Sheila, we have both been selfish in our own way, and have not thought enough——” “You’re not selfish, you’re not careless,” cried Sheila interrupting excitedly. “I only wish I were one quarter as good. Oh, Oscar, I do believe I have been selfish, though I never meant it. I never thought of such a thing. We have always been used to being happy—to have people like us. It seemed so natural. I didn’t mean any harm.” “No, Sheila, I am sure you didn’t; but you know life is not given to us just to enjoy for ourselves. We must try and think of other people too, to put them first. It is harder for you than for some, because father always spoiled you; and everybody likes you, and you are so pretty and fascinating.” But Sheila jumped up and put her hand upon his lips. “Don’t, Oscar! I don’t want to be praised; I begin to feel that I have been rather naughty and selfish, though I wouldn’t believe it when my conscience pricked now and then. I was wrong to be so furious with Aunt Cossart. Sometimes it made me a little frightened—when I wanted to say my prayers—and didn’t know how to get out ‘Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive—’ Oh, Oscar, I don’t think I’ve forgiven Aunt Cossart yet. Suppose there had been a storm, and the vessel had sunk! How dreadful that would have been!”