Nobody Part 57

"Is that what the Bible says? I didn't know it."

"Why, Madge, yes, you did. You know who is called the 'Prince of this world'; and you know Jesus 'was manifested that he might destroy the works of the devil'; and you know 'he shall reign till he has put all enemies under his feet.' But how should those old Persians know so much, with out knowing more? I'll tell you, Madge! You know, Enoch knew?"--

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do! Enoch knew. And of course they all knew when they came out of the ark"--

"Who--the Persians?"

Lois broke out into a laugh, and began to move her broom again.

"What have you been reading, to put all this into your head?"

The broom stopped.

"Ancient history, and modern; parts here and there, in different books.

Mrs. Barclay showed me where; and then we have talked"--

Lois began now to sweep vigorously.

"Lois, is _she_ like the people you used to see in New York? I mean, were they all like her?"

"Not all so nice."

"But like her?"

"Not in everything. No, they were not most of them so clever, and most of them did not know so much, and were not so accomplished."

"But they were like her in other things?"

"No," said Lois, standing still; "she is a head and shoulders above most of the women I saw; but they were of her sort, if that is what you mean."

"That is what I mean. She is not a bit like people here. We must seem very stupid to her, Lois."

"Shampuashuh people are not stupid."

"Well, aunt Anne isn't stupid; but she is not like Mrs. Barclay. And she don't want us to be like Mrs. Barclay."

"No danger!"--said Lois, very busy now at her work.

"But wouldn't you _like_ to be like Mrs. Barclay?"

"Yes."

"So would I."

"Well, we can, in the things that are most valuable," said Lois, standing still again for a moment to look at her sister.

"O, yes, books-- But I would like to be graceful like Mrs. Barclay. You would call that not valuable; but I care more for it than for all the rest. Her beautiful manners."

"She _has_ beautiful manners," said Lois. "I do not think manners can be taught. They cannot be imitated."

"Why not?"

"O, they wouldn't be natural. And what suits one might not suit another. A very handsome nose of somebody else might not be good on my face. No, they would not be natural."

"You need not wish for anybody's nose but your own," said Madge.

"_That_ will do, and so will mine, I'm thankful! But what makes her look so unhappy, Lois?"

"She does look unhappy."

"She looks as if she had lost all her friends."

"She has got _one_, here," said Lois, sweeping away.

"But what good can you do her?"

"Nothing. It isn't likely that she will ever even know the fact."

"She's doing a good deal for us."

A little later, Mrs. Barclay came down to her room. She found it, as always, in bright order; the fire casting red reflections into every corner, and making pleasant contrast with the grey without. For it was cloudy and windy weather, and wintry neutral tints were all that could be seen abroad; the clouds swept along grey overhead, and the earth lay brown and bare below. But in Mrs. Barclay's room was the cheeriest play of light and colour; here it touched the rich leather bindings of books, there the black and white of an engraving; here it was caught in tin folds of the chintz curtains which were ruddy and purple in hue, and again it warmed up the old-fashioned furniture and lost itself in a brown tablecover. Mrs. Barclay's eye loved harmonies, and it found them even in this country-furnished room at Shampuashuh. Though, indeed, the piles of books came from afar, and so did the large portfolio of engravings, and Mrs. Barclay's desk was a foreigner. She sat in her comfortable chair before the fire and read her letters, which Lois had laid ready for her; and then she was called to breakfast.

Mrs. Barclay admired her surroundings here too, as she had often done before. The old lady, ungainly as her figure and uncomely as her face were, had yet a dignity in both; the dignity of a strong and true character, which with abundant self-respect, had not, and never had, any anxious concern about the opinion of any human being. Whoever feels himself responsible to the one Great Ruler alone, and _does_ feel that responsibility, will be both worthy of respect and sure to have it in his relations with his fellows. Such tribute Mrs. Barclay paid Mrs.

Armadale. Her eye pa.s.sed on and admired Madge, who was very handsome in her neat, smart home dress; and rested on Lois finally with absolute contentment. Lois was in a nut-brown stuff dress, with a white knitted shawl bound round her shoulders in the way children sometimes have, the ends crossed on the breast and tied at the back of the waist. Brown and white was her whole figure, except the rosy flush on cheeks and lips; the ma.s.ses of fluffy hair were reddish-brown, a shade lighter than her dress. At Charity Mrs. Barclay did not look much, unless for curiosity; she was a study of a different sort.

"What delicious rolls!" said Mrs. Barclay. "Are these your work, Miss Charity?"

"I can make as good, I guess," said that lady; "but these ain't mine.

Lois made 'em."

"Lois!" said Mrs. Barclay. "I did not know that this was one of your accomplishments."

"Is _that_ what you call an accomplishment," said Charity.

"Certainly. What do you mean by it?"

"I thought an accomplishment was something that one could accomplish that was no use."

"I am sorry you have such an opinion of accomplishments."

"Well, ain't it true? Lois, maybe Mrs. Barclay don't care for sausages.

There's cold meat."

"Your sausages are excellent. I like _such_ sausage very much."

"I always think sausages ain't sausages if they ain't stuffed. Aunt Anne won't have the plague of it; but I say, if a thing's worth doing at all, it's worth doing the best way; and there's no comparison in my mind."

"So you judge everything by its utility."