Nobody Part 90

"Yes he does," said Madge. "I found an end of cigar just down by the front steps, when I was sweeping."

"I don't think he's a lazy man, either," said Lois. "That slow, easy way does not mean laziness."

"What does it mean?" inquired Mrs. Marx sharply.

"It is nothing to us what it means," said Mrs. Armadale, speaking for the first time. "We have no concern with this man. He came to see Mrs.

Barclay, his friend, and I suppose he'll never come again."

"Why shouldn't he come again, mother?" said Charity. "If she's his friend, he might want to see her more than once, seems to me. And what's more, he _is_ coming again. I heard him askin' her if he might; and then Mrs. Barclay asked me if it would be convenient, and I said it would, of course. He said he would be comin' back from Boston in a few weeks, and he would like to stop again as he went by. And do you know _I_ think she coloured. It was only a little, but she ain't a woman to blush much; and _I_ believe she knows why he wants to come, as well as he does."

"Nonsense, Charity!" said Madge incredulously.

"Then half the world are busy with nonsense, that's all I have to say; and I'm glad for my part I've somethin' better to do."

"Do you say he's comin' again?" inquired Mrs. Armadale.

"He says so, mother."

"What for?"

"Why, to visit his friend Mrs. Barclay, of course."

"She is our friend," said the old lady; "and her friends must be entertained; but he is not _our_ friend, children. We ain't of his kind, and he ain't of our'n."

"What's the matter? Ain't he good?" asked Mrs. Marx.

"He's _very_ good!" said Madge.

"Not in grandmother's way," said Lois softly.

"Mother," said Mrs. Marx, "you can't have everybody cut out on your pattern."

Mrs. Armadale made no answer.

"And there ain't enough o' your pattern to keep one from bein'

lonesome, if we're to have nothin' to do with the rest."

"Better so," said the old lady. "I don't want no company for my chil'en that won't help 'em on the road to heaven. They'll have company enough when they get there."

"And how are you goin' to be the salt o' the earth, then, if you won't touch nothin'?"

"How, if the salt loses its saltness, daughter?"

"Well, mother, it always puzzles me, that there's so much to be said on both sides of things! I'll go home and think about it. Then he ain't one o' your Appledore friends, Lois?"

"Not one of my friends at all, aunt Anne."

So the talk ended. There was a little private extension of it that evening, when Lois and Madge went up to bed.

"It's a pity grandma is so sharp about things," the latter remarked to her sister.

"Things?" said Lois. "What things?"

"Well--people. Don't you like that Mr. Dillwyn?"

"Yes."

"So do I. And she don't want us to have anything to do with him."

"But she is right," said Lois. "He is not a Christian."

"But one can't live only with Christians in this world. And, Lois, I'll tell you what I think; he is a great deal pleasanter than a good many Christians I know."

"He is good company," said Lois. "He has seen a great deal and read a great deal, and he knows how to talk. That makes him pleasant."

"Well, he's a great deal more improving to be with than anybody I know in Shampuashuh."

"In one way."

"Why shouldn't one have the pleasure, then, and the good, if he isn't a Christian?"

"The pleasanter he is, I suppose the more danger, grandmother would think."

"Danger of what?"

"You know, Madge, it is not my say-so, nor even grandmother's. You know, Christians are not of the world."

"But they must _see_ the world."

"If we were to see much of that sort of person, we might get to wis.h.i.+ng to see them always."

"By 'that sort of person' I suppose you mean Mr. Dillwyn? Well, I have got so far as that already. I wish I could see such people always."

"I am sorry."

"Why? You ought to be glad at my good taste."

"I am sorry, because you are wis.h.i.+ng for what you cannot have."

"How do you know that? You cannot tell what may happen."

"Madge, a man like Mr. Dillwyn would never think of a girl like you or me."

"I am not wanting him to think of me," said Madge rather hotly. "But, Lois, if you come to that, I think I--and you--are fit for anybody."

"Yes," said Lois quietly. "I think so too. But _they_ do not take the same view. And if they did, Madge, we could not think of them."

"Why not?--_if_ they did. I do not hold quite such extreme rules as you and grandmother do."