Nobody. Warner Susan
at him; thevery sweet curves of happy consciousness about her lips; the confidentbearing with which she had spoken, as one who had found a treasurewhich, as she said, satisfied her. But it cannot! said Philip tohimself. It is that she is pure and sweet, and takes happiness like ababy, sucking in what seems to her the pure milk of existence. It istrue, the remembered expression of Lois's features did not quite agreewith this explanation; pure and sweet, no doubt, but also grave andhigh, and sometimes evidencing a keen intellectual perception andwisdom. Not just like a baby; and he found he could not dismiss thematter so. What made her, then, so happy? Philip could not rememberever seeing a grown person who seemed so happy; whose happiness seemedto rest on such a steady foundation. Can she be in love? thoughtDillwyn; and the idea gave him a most unreasonable thrill ofdispleasure. For a moment only; then his reason told him that the lookin Lois's face was not like that. It was not the brilliance of ecstasy;it was the sunshine of deep and fixed content. Why in the world shouldMr. Dillwyn wish that Lois were not so content? so beyond what he oranybody could give her? And having got to this point, Mr. Dillwynpulled himself up again. What business was it of his, the particularspring of happiness she had found to drink of? and if it quenched herthirst, as she said it did, why should he be anything but glad of it?Why, even if Lois were happy in some new-found human treasure, shouldit move him, Philip Dillwyn, with discomfort? Was it possible that hetoo could be following in those steps of Tom Caruthers, from whichTom's mother was at such pains to divert her son? Philip began to seewhere he stood. Could it be? – and what if?
He studied the question now with a clear view of its bearings. He hadgot out of a fog. Lois was all he had thought of her. Would she do fora wife for him? Uneducated – inexperienced – not in accord with thehabits of the world – accustomed to very different habits andsociety – with no family to give weight to her name and honour to hischoice, – all that Philip pondered; and, on the other side, theloveliness, the freshness, the intellect, the character, and therefinement, which were undoubted. He pondered and pondered. A girl whowas nobody, and whom society would look upon as an intruder; a girl whohad had no advantages of education – how she could express herself sowell and so intelligently Philip could not conceive, but the fact wasthere; Lois had had no education beyond the most simple training of aschool in the country; – would it do? He turned it all over and over, and shook his head. It would be too daring an experiment; it would notbe wise; it would not do; he must give it up, all thought of such athing; and well that he had come to handle the question so early, aselse he might – he – might have got so entangled that he could not savehimself. Poor Tom! But Philip had no mother to interpose to save him; and his sister was not at hand. He went thinking about all this thewhole way back to his hotel; thinking, and shaking his head at it. No, this kind of thing was for a boy to do, not for a man who knew theworld. And yet, the image of Lois worried him.
I believe, he said to himself, I had better not see the little witchagain.
Meanwhile he was not going to have much opportunity. Mrs. Wishart camehome a little while after Philip had gone. Lois was stitching by thelast fading light.
"Do stop, my dear! you will put your eyes out. Stop, and let us havetea. Has anybody been here?"
"Mr. Dillwyn came. He went away hardly a quarter of an hour ago."
"Mr. Dillwyn! Sorry I missed him. But he will come again. I met Tom
Caruthers; he is mourning about this going with his mother to Florida."
"What are they going for?" asked Lois.
"To escape the March winds, he says."
"Who? Mr. Caruthers? He does not look delicate."
Mrs. Wishart laughed. "Not very! And his mother don't either, does she?But, my dear, people are weak in different spots; it isn't always intheir lungs."
"Are there no March winds in Florida?"
"Not where they are going. It is all sunshine and oranges – and orangeblossoms. But Tom is not delighted with the prospect. What do you thinkof that young man?"
"He is a very handsome man."
"Is he not? But I did not mean that. Of course you have eyes. I want toknow whether you have judgment."
"I have not seen much of Mr. Caruthers to judge by."
"No. Take what you have seen and make the most of it."
"I don't think I have judgment," said Lois. "About people, I mean, andmen especially. I am not accustomed to New York people, besides."
"Are they different from Shampuashuh people?"
"O, very."
"How?"
"Miss Caruthers asked me the same thing," said Lois, smiling. "Isuppose at bottom all people are alike; indeed, I know they are. But inthe country I think they show out more."
"Less disguise about them?"
"I think so."
"My dear, are we such a set of masqueraders in your eyes?"
"No," said Lois; "I did not mean that."
"What do you think of Philip Dillwyn? Comare him with young Caruthers."
"I cannot," said Lois. "Mr. Dillwyn strikes me as a man who knowseverything there is in all the world."
"And Tom, you think, does not?"
"Not so much," said, Lois hesitating; "at least he does not impress meso."
"You are more impressed with Mr. Dillwyn?"
"In what way?" said Lois simply. "I am impressed with the sense of myown ignorance. I should be oppressed by it, if it was my fault."
"Now you speak like a sensible girl, as you are. Lois, men do not careabout women knowing much."
"Sensible men must."
"They are precisely the ones who do not. It is odd enough, but it is afact. But go on; which of these two do you like best?"
"I have seen most of Mr. Caruthers, you know. But, Mrs. Wishart, sensible men must like sense in other people."
"Yes, my dear; they do; unless when they want to marry the people; andthen their choice very often lights upon a fool. I have seen it overand over and over again; the clever one of a family is passed by, and asilly sister is the one chosen."
"Why?"
"A pink and white skin, or a pair of black eyebrows, or perhaps somesoft blue eyes."
"But people cannot live upon a pair of black eyebrows," said Lois.
"They find that out afterwards."
"Mr. Dillwyn talks as if he liked sense," said Lois. "I mean, he talksabout sensible things."
"Do you mean that Tom don't, my dear?"
A slight colour rose on the cheek Mrs. Wishart was looking at; and Loissaid somewhat hastily that she was not comparing.
"I shall try to find out what Tom talks to you about, when he comesback from Florida. I shall scold him if he indulges in nonsense."
"It will be neither sense nor nonsense. I shall be gone long beforethen."
"Gone whither?"
"Home – to Shampuashuh. I have been wanting to speak to you about it,
Mrs. Wishart. I must go in a very few days."
"Nonsense! I shall not let you. I cannot get along without you. Theydon't want you at home, Lois."
"The garden does. And the dairy work will be more now in a week or two; there will be more milk to take care of, and Madge will want help."
"Dairy work! Lois, you must not do dairy work. You will spoil yourhands."
Lois laughed. "Somebody's hands must do it. But Madge takes care of thedairy. My hands see to the garden."
"Is it necessary?"
"Why, yes, certainly, if we would have butter or vegetables; and youwould not counsel us to do without them. The two make half the livingof the family."
"And you really cannot afford a servant?"
"No, nor