Children of clergy -- Fiction; Christian fiction; Fathers and daughters -- Fiction; Scotland -- Fiction
_Mother._--Oh, yes! I dare say: in some poky little lodging or other!
_Father._--For my part, Ethelwyn, I think it better to build castles in the
air than huts in the smoke. But seriously, a little poverty and a little
struggling would be a most healthy and healing thing for Wynnie. It hasn't
done Percivale much good yet, I confess; for he is far too indifferent to
his own comforts to mind it: but it will be quite another thing when he has
a young wife and perhaps children depending upon him. Then his poverty may
begin to hurt him, and so do him some good.
* * * * *
It may seem odd that my father and mother should now be taking such
opposite sides to those they took when the question of our engagement was
first started, as represented by my father in "The Seaboard Parish." But
it will seem inconsistent to none of the family; for it was no unusual
thing for them to take opposite sides to those they had previously
advocated,--each happening at the time, possibly enlightened by the
foregone arguments of the other, to be impressed with the correlate truth,
as my father calls the other side of a thing. Besides, engagement and
marriage are two different things; and although my mother was the first
to recognize the good of our being engaged, when it came to marriage she
got frightened, I think. Any how, I have her authority for saying that
something like this passed between her and my father on the subject.
Discussion between them differed in this from what I have generally heard
between married people, that it was always founded on a tacit understanding
of certain unmentioned principles; and no doubt sometimes, if a stranger
had been present, he would have been bewildered as to the very meaning
of what they were saying. But we girls generally understood: and I fancy
we learned more from their differences than from their agreements; for
of course it was the differences that brought out their minds most, and
chiefly led us to think that we might understand. In our house there were
very few of those mysteries which in some houses seem so to abound; and
I think the openness with which every question, for whose concealment
there was no special reason, was discussed, did more than even any direct
instruction we received to develop what thinking faculty might be in us.
Nor was there much reason to dread that my small brothers might repeat any
thing. I remember hearing Harry say to Charley once, they being then eight
and nine years old, "That is mamma's opinion, Charley, not yours; and you
know we must not repeat what we hear."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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