Madge wasa very handsome girl, while Charity was hard-favoured, like hergrandmother. "It does one good to see pretty things."
"That's no better than pride," said Charity. "Things that ain't prettyare just as useful, and more useful. That's all pride, silver dishes, and flowers, and stuff. It just makes people stuck-up. Don't they thinkthemselves, all those grand folks, don't they think themselves a hitchor two higher than Shampuashuh folks?"
"Perhaps," said Lois; "but I do not know, so I cannot say."
"O Lois," cried Madge, "are the people very nice?"
"Some of them."
"You haven't lost your heart, have you?"
"Only part of it."
"Part of it! O, to whom, Lois? Who is it?"
"Mrs. Wishart's black horses."
"Pshaw!" exclaimed Charity. "Haven't Shampuashuh folks got horses?
Don't tell me!"
"But, Lois!" pursued Madge, "who was the nicest person you saw?"
"Madge, I don't know. A good many seemed to be nice."
"Well, who was the handsomest? and who was the cleverest? and who wasthe kindest to you? I don't mean Mrs. Wishart. Now answer."
"The handsomest, and the cleverest, and the kindest to me?" Loisrepeated slowly. "Well, let me see. The handsomest was a Mr. Caruthers."
"Who's he?"
"Mr. Caruthers."
"What is he, then?"
"He is a gentleman, very much thought of; rich, and knows everybody; that's about all I can tell."
"Was he the cleverest, too, that you saw?"
"No, I think not."
"Who was that?"
"Another gentleman; a Mr. Dillwyn."
"Dillun!" Madge repeated.
"That is the pronunciation of the name. It is spelt D, i, l, l, w, y,n, – Dilwin; but it is called Dillun."
"And who was kindest to you? Go on, Lois."
"O, everybody was kind to me," Lois said evasively. "Kind enough. I didnot need kindness."
"Whom did you like best, then?"
"Of those two? They are both men of the world, and nothing to me; butof the two, I think I like the first best."
"Caruthers. I shall remember," said Madge.
"That is foolish talk, children," remarked Mrs. Armadale.
"Yes, but grandma, you know children are bound to be foolishsometimes," returned Madge.
"And then the rod of correction must drive it far from them," said theold lady. "That's the common way; but it ain't the easiest way. Loissaid true; these people are nothing and can be nothing to her. Iwouldn't make believe anything about it, if I was you."
The conversation changed to other things. And soon took a fresh springat the entrance of another of the family, an aunt of the girls; wholived in the neighbourhood, and came in to hear the news from New Havenas well as from New York. And then it knew no stop. While the table wasclearing, and while Charity and Madge were doing up the dishes, andwhen they all sat down round the fire afterwards, there went on aceaseless, restless, unending flow of questions, answers, and comments; going over, I am bound to say, all the ground already travelled duringsupper. Mrs. Armadale sometimes sighed to herself; but this, if theothers heard it, could not check them.
Mrs. Marx was a lively, clever, kind, good-natured woman; with plentyof administrative ability, like so many New England women, full ofresources; quick with her head and her hands, and not slow with hertongue; an uneducated woman, and yet one who had made such good use oflife-schooling, that for all practical purposes she had twice the witof many who have gone through all the drill of the best institutions. Akeen eye, a prompt judgment, and a fearless speech, all belonged toMrs. Marx; universally esteemed and looked up to and welcomed by allher associates. She was not handsome; she was even strikingly deficientin the lines of beauty; and refinement was not one of hercharacteristics, other than the refinement which comes of kindness andunselfishness. Mrs. Marx would be delicately careful of another'sfeelings, when there was real need; she could show an exceeding greattenderness and tact then; while in ordinary life her voice was ratherloud, her movements were free and angular, and her expressions veryunconstrained. Nobody ever saw Mrs. Marx anything but neat, whatevershe possibly might be doing; in other respects her costume was oftenextremely unconventional; but she could dress herself nicely and lookquite as becomes a lady. Independent was Mrs. Marx, above all and ineverything.
"I guess she's come back all safe!" was her comment, made to Mrs.Armadale, at the conclusion of the long talk. Mrs. Armadale made noanswer.
"It's sort o' risky, to let a young thing like that go off by herselfamong all those highflyers. It's like sendin' a pigeon to sail aboutwith the hawks."
"Why, aunt Anne," said Lois at this, "whom can you possibly mean by thehawks?"
"The sort o' birds that eat up pigeons."
"I saw nobody that wanted to eat me up, I assure you."
"There's the difference between you and a real pigeon. The pigeon knowsthe hawk when she sees it; you don't."
"Do you think the hawks all live in cities?"
"No, I don't," said Mrs. Marx. "They go swoopin' about in the countrynow and then. I shouldn't a bit wonder to see one come sailin' over ourheads one of these fine days. But now, you see, grandma has got youunder her wing again." Mrs. Marx was Mrs. Armadale's half-daughteronly, and sometimes in company of others called her as hergrandchildren did. "How does home look to you, Lois, now you're back init?"
"Very much as it used to look," Lois answered, smiling.
"The taste ain't somehow taken out o' things? Ha' you got your oldappetite for common doin's?"
"I shall try to-morrow. I am going out into the garden to get some peasin."
"Mine is in."
"Not long, aunt Anne? the frost hasn't been long out of the ground."
"Put 'em in to-day, Lois. And your garden has the sun on it; so Ishouldn't wonder if you beat me after all. Well, I must go along andlook arter my old man. He just let me run away now 'cause I told him Iwas kind o' crazy about the fashions; and he said 'twas a feminineweakness and he pitied me. So I come. Mrs. Dashiell has been a week toNew London; but la! New London bonnets is no account."
"You don't get much light from Lois," remarked Charity.
"No. Did ye learn anything, Lois, while you was away?"
"I think so, aunt Anne."
"What, then? Let's hear. Learnin' ain't good for much, without you giveit out."
Lois, however, seemed not inclined to be generous with her stores ofnew knowledge.
"I guess she's learned Shampuashuh ain't much of a place," the eldersister remarked
