Nobody Part 58

"Don't everybody, that's got any sense?"

"And therefore you condemn accomplishments?"

"Well, I don't see the use. O, if folks have got nothing else to do, and just want to make a flare-up--but for us in Shampuashuh, what's the good of them? For Lois and Madge, now? I don't make it out."

"You forget, your sisters may marry, and go somewhere else to live; and then"--

"I don't know what Madge'll do; but Lois ain't goin' to marry anybody but a real G.o.dly man, and what use'll her accomplishments be to her then?"

"Why, just as much use, I hope," said Mrs. Barclay, smiling. "Why not?

The more education a woman has, the more fit she is to content a man of education, anywhere."

"Where's she to get a man of education?" said Charity. "What you mean by that don't grow in these parts. We ain't savages exactly, but there ain't many accomplishments scattered through the village. Unless, as you say, bread-makin's one. We do know how to make bread, and cake, with anybody; Lois said she didn't see a bit o' real good cake all the while she was in Gotham; and we can cure hams, and we understand horses and cows, and b.u.t.ter and cheese, and farming, of course, and that; but you won't find your man of education here, or Lois won't."

"She may find him somewhere else," said Mrs. Barclay, looking at Charity over her coffee-cup.

"Then he won't be the right kind," persisted Charity; while Lois laughed, and begged they would not discuss the question of her possible "finds"; but Mrs. Barclay asked, "How not the right kind?"

"Well, every place has its sort," said Charity. "Our sort is religious.

I don't know whether we're any _better_ than other folks, but we're religious; and your men of accomplishments ain't, be they?"

"Depends on what you mean by religious."

"Well, I mean G.o.dly. Lois won't ever marry any but a G.o.dly man."

"I hope not!" said Mrs. Armadale.

"_She_ won't," said Charity; "but you had better talk to Madge, mother.

I am not so sure of her. Lois is safe."

"'The fashion of this world pa.s.seth away,'" said the old lady, with a gravity which was yet sweet; "'but the word of the Lord endureth for ever.'"

Mrs. Barclay was now silent. This morning, contrary to her usual wont, she kept her place at the table, though the meal was finished. She was curious to see the ways of the household, and felt herself familiar enough with the family to venture to stay. Charity began to gather her cups.

"Did you give aunt Anne's invitation? Hand along the plates, Madge, and carry your b.u.t.ter away. We've been for ever eating breakfast."

"Talking," said Mrs. Barclay, with a smile.

"Talking's all very well, but I think one thing at a time is enough. It is as much as most folks can attend to. Lois, do give me the plates; and give your invitation."

"Aunt Anne wants us all to come and take tea with her to-night," said Lois; "and she sent her compliments to Mrs. Barclay, and a message that she would be very glad to see her with the rest of us."

"I am much obliged, and shall be very happy to go."

"'Tain't a party," said Charity, who was receiving plates and knives and forks from Lois's hand, and making them elaborately ready for washing; while Madge went back and forth clearing the table of the remains of the meal. "It's nothin' but to go and take our tea there instead of here. We save the trouble of gettin' it ready, and have the trouble of going; that's our side; and what aunt Anne has for her side she knows best herself. I guess she's proud of her sweetmeats."

Mrs. Barclay smiled again. "It seems parties are much the same thing, wherever they are given," she said.

"This ain't a party," repeated Charity. Madge had now brought a tub of hot water, and the washing up of the breakfast dishes was undertaken by Lois and Charity with a despatch and neatness and celerity which the looker-on had never seen equalled.

"Parties do not seem to be Shampuashuh fashion," she remarked. "I have not heard of any since I have been here."

"No," said Charity. "We have more sense."

"I am not sure that it shows sense," remarked Lois, carrying off a pile of clean hot plates to the cupboard.

"What's the use of 'em?" said the elder sister.

"Cultivation of friendly feeling," suggested Mrs. Barclay.

"If folks ain't friendly already, the less they see of one another the better they'll agree," said Charity.

"Miss Charity, I am afraid you do not love your fellow-creatures," said Mrs. Barclay, much amused.

"As well as they love me, I guess," said Charity.

"Mrs. Armadale," said Mrs. Barclay, appealing to the old lady who sat in her corner knitting as usual,--"do not these opinions require some correction?"

"Charity speaks what she thinks," said Mrs. Armadale, scratching behind her ear with the point of her needle, as she was very apt to do when called upon.

"But that is not the right way to think, is it?"

"It's the natural way," said the old lady. "It is only the fruit of the Spirit that is 'love, joy, peace.' 'Tain't natural to love what you don't like."

"What you don't like! no," said Mrs. Barclay; "that is a pitch of love I never dreamed of."

"'If ye love them that love you, what thank have ye?'" said the old lady quietly.

"Mother's off now," said Charity; "out of anybody's understanding. One would think I was more unnatural than the rest of folks!"

"She _said_ you were more natural, thats all," said Lois, with a sly smile.

The talk ceased. Mrs. Barclay looked on for a few minutes more, marvelling to see the quick dexterity with which everything was done by the two girls; until the dishes were put away, the tcib and towels were gone, the table was covered with its brown cloth, a few crumbs were brushed from the carpet; and Charity disappeared in one direction and Lois in another. Mrs. Barclay herself withdrew to her room and her thoughts.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE CARPENTER.

The day was a more than commonly busy one, so that the usual hours of lessons in Mrs. Barclay's room did not come off. It was not till late in the afternoon that Lois went to her friend, to tell her that Mrs.

Marx would send her little carriage in about an hour to fetch her mother, and that Mrs. Barclay also might ride if she would. Mrs.

Barclay was sitting in her easy-chair before the fire, doing nothing, and on receipt of this in formation turned a very shadowed face towards the bringer of it.