And when he does come there they sit,
talking about their books and their authors; you'd think
the world had nothing else in it! I know, for I've heard
them, hard at it, there in the library. Books and authors
won't keep their house or look after their family for
them; I can tell them that, if it does come to anything,
which I hope it won't."
"Finlay's fine in the pulpit," said John Murchison
cautiously.
"Oh, the man's well enough; it's him I'm sorry for. I
don't call Advena fitted to be a wife, and last of all
a minister's. Abby was a treasure for any man to get,
and Stella won't turn out at all badly; she's taking hold
very well for her age. But Advena simply hasn't got it
in her, and that's all there is to say about it." Mrs
Murchison pulled her needles out right side out with
finality. "I don't deny the girl's talented in her own
way, but it's no way to marry on. She'd much better make
up her mind just to be a happy independent old maid; any
woman might do worse. And take no responsibilities."
"There would always be you, Mother, for them to fall back
on." It was as near as John Murchison ever got to flattery.
"No thank you, then! I've brought up six of my own, as
well as I was able, which isn't saying much, and a hard
life I've had of it. Now I'm done with it; they'll have
to find somebody else to fall back on.
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