The Squire of Sandal-Side by Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr


Main
- books.jibble.org



My Books
- IRC Hacks

Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare

External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd

books.jibble.org

Previous Page | Next Page

Page 18

"You can't think what a pleasure it would be to me if he fancied one of
our girls. I've planned it this many a long day, Alice."

"Well, then, William, if you have a wish as strong as that, it is
something more than a wish, it is a kind of right; and I'll never go
against you in any fair matter."

"And though you spoke scornful of money, it is a good thing; and the
girl Julius marries will be a rich woman. Eh? What?"

"Perhaps; but it is the happiness and not the riches of her child that
is a good mother's reward, and a good father's too. Eh, William?"

"Certainly, Alice, certainly." But his unspoken reflection was, "women
are that short sighted, they cannot put up with a small evil to prevent
a big one."

He had forgotten that "the wise One" and the "Counsellor" thought one
day's joys and sorrows "sufficient" for the heart to bear.




CHAPTER IV.

THUS RUNS THE WORLD AWAY.

"But we mortals
Planted so lowly, with death to bless us,
Sorrow no longer."

"Our choices are our destiny. Nothing is ours that our choices have
not made ours."


Julius Sandal had precisely those superficial excellences which the
world is ready to accept at their apparent value; and he had been in so
many schools, and imbibed such a variety of opinions, that he had a
mental suit for all occasions. "He knows about every thing," said Sandal
to the clergyman, at the close of an evening spent together,--an evening
in which Julius had been particularly interesting. "Don't you think so,
sir?"

The rector looked up at the starry sky, and around the mountain-girdled
valley, and answered slowly, "He has a great many ideas, squire; but
they are second-hand, and do not fit his intellect."

Charlotte had much the same opinion of the paragon, only she expressed
it in a different way. "He believes in every thing, and he might as well
believe in nothing. Confucius and Christ are about the same to him, and
he thinks Juggernaut only 'a clumsier spelling of a name which no man
spells correctly.'"

"His mind is like a fine mosaic, Charlotte."

"Oh, indeed, Sophia, I don't think so! Mosaics have a design and fit it.
The mind of Julius is more like that quilt of a thousand pieces which
grandmother patched. There they are, the whole thousand, just bits of
color, all sizes and shapes. I would rather have a good square of white
Marseilles."

"I don't think you ought to speak in such a way, Charlotte. You can't
help seeing how much he admires you."

There was a tone in Sophia's carefully modulated voice which made
Charlotte turn, and look at her sister. She was sitting at her
embroidery-frame, and apparently counting the stitches in the rose-leaf
she was copying; but Charlotte noticed that her hand trembled, and that
she was counting at random. In a moment the veil fell from her eyes: she
understood that Sophia was in love with Julius, and fearful of her own
influence over him. She had been about to leave the room: she returned
to the window, and stood at it a few moments, as if considering the
assertion.

"I should be very sorry if that were the case, Sophia."

"Why?"

"Because I do not admire Julius in any way. I never could admire him. I
don't want to be in debt to him for even one-half hour of sentimental
affection."

Previous Page | Next Page


Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Sat 11th Jan 2025, 16:46