Nobody

"Jealous already?" said Mrs. Barclay slyly.

"If you like. – Do you see her as I see her?" he asked abruptly.

There was a tone in the last words which gave Mrs. Barclay's heart akind of constriction. She answered with gentle sympathy, "I think I do."

"I have seen handsomer women," he went on; – "Madge is handsomer, in away; you may see many women more beautiful, according to the rules; butI never saw any one so lovely!"

"I quite agree with you," said Mrs. Barclay.

"I never saw anything so lovely!" he repeated. "She is most like – "

"A white lily," said Mrs. Barclay.

"No, that is not her type. No. As long as the world stands, a rose justopen will remain the fairest similitude for a perfect woman. It'scommonness cannot hinder that. She is not an unearthly Dendrobium, sheis an earthly rose —

'Not too good
For human nature's daily food,'

– if one could find the right sort of human nature! Just so fresh, unconscious, and fair; with just such a dignity of purity about her. Icannot fancy her at the opera, or dancing."

"A sort of unapproachable tea-rose?" said Mrs. Barclay, smiling at him, though her eyes were wistful.

"No," said he, "a tea-rose is too fragile. There is nothing of thatabout her, thank heaven!"

"No," said Mrs. Barclay, "there is nothing but sound healthy life abouther; mental and bodily; and I agree with you, sweet as ever a humanlife can be. In the garden or at her books, – hark! that is for supper."

For here there came a slight tap on the door.

"Supper!" cried Philip.

"Yes; it is rather late, and the girls promised me a cup of coffee, after your exertions! But I dare say everybody wants some refreshmentby this time. Come!"

There was a cheery supper table spread in the dining-room; coffee, indeed, and Stoney Creek oysters, and excellently cooked. Only Charityand Madge were there; Mrs. Armadale had gone to bed, and Lois wasattending upon her. Mr. DilIwyn, however, was served assiduously.

"I hope you're hungry! You've done a load of good this evening, Mr.

Dillwyn," said Charity, as she gave him his coffee.

"Thank you. I don't see the connection," said Philip, with an air asdifferent as possible from that he had worn in talking to Mrs. Barclayin the next room.

"People ought to be hungry when they have done a great deal of work,"

Madge explained, as she gave him a plate of oysters.

"I do not feel that I have done any work."

"O, well! I suppose it was play to you," said Charity, "but that don'tmake any difference. You've done a load of good. Why, the children willnever be able to forget it, nor the grown folks either, as far as thatgoes; they'll talk of it, and of you, for two years, and more."

"I am doubtful about the real worth of fame, Miss Charity, even when itlasts two years."

"O, but you've done so much good!" said the lady. "Everybody sees nowthat the white church can hold her own. Nobody'll think of makingdisagreeable comparisons, if they have fifty Christmas trees."

"Suppose I had helped the yellow church?"

Charity looked as if she did not know what he would be at. Just then incame Lois and took her place at the table; and Mr. Dillwyn forgot allabout rival churches.

"Here's Mr. Dillwyn don't think he's done any good, Lois!" cried herelder sister. "Do cheer him up a little. I think it's a shame to talkso. Why, we've done all we wanted to, and more. There won't a soul goaway from our church or school after this, now they see what we can do; and I shouldn't wonder if we got some accessions from the otherinstead. And here's Mr. Dillwyn says he don't know as he's done anygood!"

Lois lifted her eyes and met his, and they both smiled.

"Miss Lois sees the matter as I do," he said. "These are capitaloysters. Where do they come from?"

"But, Philip," said Mrs. Barclay, "you have given a great deal ofpleasure. Isn't that good?"

"Depends – " said he. "Probably it will be followed by a reaction."

"And you have kept the church together," added Charity, who was zealous.

"By a rope of sand, then, Miss Charity."

"At any rate, Mr. Dillwyn, you meant to do good," Lois put in here.

"I do not know, Miss Lois. I am afraid I was thinking more of pleasure, myself; and shall experience myself the reaction I spoke of. I think Ifeel the shadow of it already, as a coming event."

"But if we aren't to have any pleasure, because afterwards we feel alittle flat, – and of course we do," said Charity; "everybody knowsthat. But, for instance, if we're not to have green peas in summer, because we can't have 'em any way but dry in winter, – things would bevery queer! Queerer than they are; and they're queer enough already."

This speech called forth some merriment.

"You think even the dry remains of pleasure are better than nothing!"said Philip. "Perhaps you are right."

"And to have those, we must have had the green reality," said Loismerrily.

"I wonder if there is any way of keeping pleasure green," said Dillwyn.

"Vain, vain, Mr. Dillwyn!" said Mrs. Barclay. "Tout lasse, tout casse, tout passe! don't you know? Solomon said, I believe, that all wasvanity. And he ought to know."

"But he didn't know," said Lois quickly.

"Lois!" said Charity – "it's in the Bible."

"I know it is in the Bible that he said so," Lois rejoined merrily.

"Was he not right, then?" Mr. Dillwyn asked.

"Perhaps," Lois answered, now gravely, "if you take simply his view."

"What was his view? Won't you explain?"