"If I had had them, Cicely, I should not have found out one very great thing--that happiness does not come from these things; it does not come from doing what you like, even if what you like is good in itself. I might almost say that it comes from not doing what you like. That is the lesson that I have learned of life, and I am thankful that it has been taught me." Cicely was silent for a time. She seemed to see her mother, dear as she had been to her, in a new light, with a halo of uncomplaining self-sacrifice round her. Her face burned as she remembered how that morning in church, and since, she had thought of her as one who had bartered her independence for a life of dull luxury and stagnation. It came upon her with a flash of insight that her mother was a woman of strong intelligence, who had, consciously, laid her intellectual gifts on the altar of duty, and found her reward in doing so. The thought found ineffective utterance. "Of course it is from you that Walter gets his brains," she said. Mrs. Clinton did not reply to this. "You are very young to learn the lesson," she said. "I am not sure--I don't think it is a lesson that every one need learn--that every woman need learn. I should like you to make use of your brains--if that is really what you have been unhappy about, Cicely. But is it so, my dear?" "Oh, I don't know," said Cicely. "I suppose not. If I had wanted to learn things, there are plenty of books at Kencote and I had plenty of time. It was in London--it was just one of the things. First I was jealous--I suppose it was that--because Dick and Humphrey had always had such a good time and seemed to belong to everything, and I was so out of it all. I still think that very unfair. Then when I went to Aunt Emmeline's and saw what a good time Angela and Beatrice had in a different sort of way--I wanted that too. And I think _that_ is unfair. When I talked to them--I like them very much, but I suppose they wanted to show how much better off they were than I am--the only thing they seemed to think I was lucky in was my allowance, and even then they said they didn't see how I could spend it, as I never went anywhere. I felt so _ignorant_ beside them. Once Angela said something to me in French--the maid was in the room--and I didn't understand her. I was ashamed. Mother, I think I ought to have had the chances that Angela and Beatrice have had."