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Cholmondeley, Mary, 1859-1925

"Red Pottage"

To imitate the outward appearance of certain virtues is like
imitating the clothes of a certain class. It does not make us belong to
the class to dress like it. The true foundation for the spiritual life,
as far as I can see it, is in the full development of our human nature
with all its simple trusts and aspirations. I admire Dick's solid
foundation. It will carry a building worthy of him some day. But my
words of wisdom appear to be thrown away upon you. You are thinking of
something else."
"I was thinking that I ought to tell you that I am engaged to be
married."
The Bishop's face lit up.
"I am engaged to Mr. Scarlett. That is why he has come down here."
The Bishop's face fell. Rachel had been three days at the Palace. Dick
had not allowed the grass to grow under his feet. "That admirable
promptitude," the Bishop had remarked to himself, "deserves success."
"Poor, dear Dick," he said, softly.
"That is what Hester says. I told her yesterday."
"I really have a very high opinion of Dick," said the Bishop.
"So have I. If I might have two I would certainly choose him second."
"But this superfluous Mr. Scarlett comes first, eh?"
"I am afraid he does."
"Well," said the Bishop, with a sigh, "if you are so ungrateful as to
marry to please yourself, instead of to please me, there is nothing more
to be said.


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