Nobody

"Pleasure in nice things, grandmother; in particularly nice things; that had cost a great deal to fetch them from nobody knows where; andpleasure in pretty things too. That hotel seemed almost like the hallsof Aladdin to my inexperienced eyes. There is certainly pleasure in awonderfully dainty meal, served in wonderful vessels of glass and chinaand silver, and marble and gold and flowers to help the effect. I couldhave dreamed myself into a fairy tale, often, if it had not been forthe people."

"Life is not a fairy tale," said Mrs. Armadale somewhat severely.

"No, grandmother; and so the humanity present generally reminded me.

But the illusion for a minute was delightful."

"Is there any harm in making it as much like a fairy tale as we can?"

Some of the little courtesies and hospitalities of the table came inhere, and Mr. Dillwyn's question received no answer. His eye went roundthe table. No, clearly these people did not live in fairyland, and aslittle in the search after it. Good, strong, sensible, practical faces; women that evidently had their work to do, and did it; habitual energyand purpose spoke in every one of them, and purpose attained. Herewas no aimless dreaming or fruitless wishing. The old lady's face wassorely weather-beaten, but calm as a ship in harbour. Charity washomely, but comfortable. Madge and Lois were blooming in strength andactivity, and as innocent apparently of any vague, unfulfilled longingsas a new-blown rose. Only when Mr. Dillwyn's eye met Mrs. Barclay's hewas sensible of a different record. He half sighed. The calm and therest were not there.

The talk rambled on. Mr. Dillwyn made him self exceedingly pleasant; told of things he had seen in his travels, things and people, and waysof life; interesting even Mrs. Armadale with a sort of fascinatedinterest, and gaining, he knew, no little share of her good-will. So, just as the meal was ending, he ventured to bring forward the oldsubject again.

"You will pardon me, Mrs. Armadale," he began, – "but you are the firstperson I ever met who did not value money."

"Perhaps I am the first person you ever met who had something better."

"You mean – ?" said Philip, with a look of inquiry. "I do notunderstand."

"I have treasure in heaven."

"But the coin of that realm is not current here? – and we are here."

"That coin makes me rich now; and I take it with me when I go," saidthe old lady, as she rose from the table.

CHAPTER XXXIV

UNDER AN UMBRELLA

Mrs. Barclay returned to her own room, and Mr. Dillwyn was forced tofollow her. The door was shut between them and the rest of thehousehold. Mrs. Barclay trimmed her fire, and her guest looked onabsently. Then they sat down on opposite sides of the fireplace; Mrs.Barclay smiling inwardly, for she knew that Philip was impatient; however, nothing could be more sedate to all appearance than she was.

"Do you hear how the wind moans in the chimney?" she said. "That meansrain."

"Rather dismal, isn't it?"

"No. In this house nothing is dismal. There is a wholesome way oflooking at everything."

"Not at money?"

"It is no use, Philip, to talk to people about what they cannotunderstand."

"I thought understanding on that point was universal."

"They have another standard in this family for weighing things, fromthat which you and I have been accustomed to go by."

"What is it?"

"I can hardly tell you, in a word. I am not sure that I can tell you atall. Ask Lois."

"When can I ask her? Do you spend your evenings alone?"

"By no means! Sometimes I go out and read 'Rob Roy' to them. Sometimesthe girls come to me for some deeper reading, or lessons."

"Will they come to-night?"

"Of course not! They would not interfere with your enjoyment of mysociety."

"Cannot you ask Lois in, on some pretext?"

"Not without her sister. It is hard on you, Philip! I will do the bestfor you I can; but you must watch your opportunity."

Mr. Dillwyn gave it up with a good grace, and devoted himself to Mrs.Barclay for the rest of the evening. On the other side of the wallseparating the two rooms, meanwhile a different colloquy had takenplace.

"So that is one of your fine people?" said Miss Charity. "Well, I don'tthink much of him."

"I have no doubt he would return the compliment," said Madge.

"No," said Lois; "I think he is too polite."

"He was polite to grandmother," returned Charity. "Not to anybody else, that I saw. But, girls, didn't he like the bread!"

"I thought he liked everything pretty well," said Madge.

"When's he goin'?" Mrs. Armadale asked suddenly.

"Monday, some time," Madge answered. "Mrs. Barclay said 'until Monday.'

What time Monday I don't know."

"Well, we've got things enough to hold out till then," said Charity, gathering up her dishes. "It's fun, too; I like to set a nice table."

"Why, grandmother?" said Lois. "Don't you like Mrs. Barclay's friend?"

"Well enough, child. I don't want him for none of our'n."

"Why, grandmother?" said Madge.

"His world ain't our world, children, and his hopes ain't our hopes – ifthe poor soul has any. 'Seems to me he's all in the dark."

"That's only on one subject," said Lois. "About everything else heknows a great deal; and he has seen everything."

"Yes," said Mrs. Armadale; "very like he has; and he likes to talkabout it; and he has a pleasant tongue; and he is a civil man. Butthere's one thing he hain't seen, and that is the light; and one thinghe don't know, and that is happiness. And he may have plenty ofmoney – I dare say he has; but he's what I call a poor man. I don't wantyou to have no such friends."

"But grandmother, you do not dislike to have him in the house these twodays, do you?"

"It can't be helped, my dear, and we'll do the best for him we can. But

I don't want you to have no such friends."