Nobody

"Be they?" said the old lady. "I don' know which of 'em."

"Well, grandmother, this way of beautiful manners. They don't all haveit – I don't mean that – but some of them do. They seem to know exactlyhow to behave to everybody, and always what to do or to say; and youcan see Mrs. Barclay is one of those. And I like those people. There isa charm about them."

"Don't you always know what's right to do or say, with the Bible beforeyou?"

"O grandmother, but I mean in little things; little words and ways, andtones of voice even. It isn't like Shampuashuh people."

"Well, we're Shampuashuh folks," said Charity. "I hope you won't setup for nothin' else, Lois. I guess your head got turned a bit, withgoin' round the world. But I wish I knew what makes her look so sober!"

"She has lost her husband."

"Other folks have lost their husbands, and a good many of 'em havefound another. Don't be ridiculous, Lois!"

The first bait that took, in the shape of books, was Scott's "Lady ofthe Lake." Lois opened it one day, was caught, begged to be allowed toread it; and from that time had it in her hand whenever her hand wasfree to hold it. She read it aloud, sometimes, to her grandmother, wholistened with a half shake of her head, but allowed it was pretty.Charity was less easy to bribe with sweet sounds.

"What on earth is the use of that?" she demanded one day, when she hadstood still for ten minutes in her way through the room, to hear theaccount of Fitz James's adventure in the wood with Roderick Dhu.

"Don't you like it?" said Lois.

"Don't make head or tail of it. And there sits Madge with her mouthopen, as if it was something to eat; and Lois's cheeks are as pink asif she expected the people to step out and walk in. Mother, do you likeall that stuff?"

"It is poetry, Charity," cried Lois.

"What's the use o' poetry? can you tell me? It seems to me nonsense fora man to write in that way. If he has got something to say, why don'the say it, and be done with it?"

"He does say it, in a most beautiful way."

"It'd be a queer way of doing business!"

"It is not business," said Lois, laughing. "Charity, will you notunderstand? It is poetry."

"What is poetry?"

But alas! Charity had asked what nobody could answer, and she had thefield in triumph.

"It is just a jingle-jangle, and what I call nonsense. Mother, ain'tthat what you would say is a waste of time?"

"I don't know, my dear," said Mrs. Armadale doubtfully, applying herknitting needle to the back of her ear.

"It isn't nonsense; it is delightful!" said Madge indignantly.

"You want me to go on, grandmother, don't you?" said Lois. "We want toknow about the fight, when the two get to Coilantogle ford."

And as she was not forbidden, she went on; while Charity got thespice-box she had come for, and left the room superior.

The "Lady of the Lake" was read through. Mrs. Barclay had hoped to drawon some historical inquiries by means of it; but before she could finda chance, Lois took up Greville's Memoirs. This she read to herself; and not many pages, before she came with the book and a puzzled face toMrs. Barclay's room. Mrs. Barclay was, we may say, a fisher lying inwait for a bite; now she saw she had got one; the thing was to haul inthe line warily and skilfully. She broke up a piece of coal on thefire, and gave her visitor an easy-chair.

"Sit there, my dear. I am very glad of your company. What have you inyour hand? Greville?"

"Yes. I want to ask you about some things. Am I not disturbing you?"

"Most agreeably. I can have nothing better to do than to talk with you.

What is the question?"

"There are several questions. It seems to me a very strange book!"

"Perhaps it is. But why do you say so?"

"Perhaps I should rather say that the people are strange. Is this what the highest society in England is like?"

"In what particulars, do you mean?"

"Why, I think Shampuashuh is better. I am sure Shampuashuh would beashamed of such doings."

"What are you thinking of?" Mrs. Barclay asked, carefully repressing asmile.

"Why, here are people with every advantage, with money and witheducation, and with the power of place and rank, – living for nothingbut mere amusement, and very poor amusement too."

"The conversations alluded to were very often not poor amusement. Someof the society were very brilliant and very experienced men."

"But they did nothing with their lives."

"How does that appear?"

"Here, at the Duke of York's," said Lois, turning over herleaves; – "they sat up till four in the morning playing whist; and onSunday they amused themselves shooting pistols and eating fruit in thegarden, and playing with the monkeys! That is like children."

"My dear, half the world do nothing with their lives, as you phrase it."

"But they ought. And you expect it of people in high places, and havingall sorts of advantages."

"You expect, then, what you do not find."

"And is all of what is called the great world, no better than that?"

"Some of it is better." (O Philip, Philip, where are you? thought Mrs.Barclay.) "They do not all play whist all night. But you know, Lois, people come together to be amused; and it is not everybody that cantalk, or act, sensibly for a long stretch."

"How can they play cards all night?"

"Whist is very ensnaring. And the little excitement of stakes drawspeople on."

"Stakes?" said Lois inquiringly.

"Sums staked on the game."

"Oh! But that is worse than foolish."

"It is to keep the game from growing tiresome. Do you see any harm init?"