It was a diversion in which Arthur Grey and Stephen
Montgomery would not have indulged, perhaps, "but this," I mused, "is a
sadly commonplace sort of world, viewed in the broad daylight of wisdom
and experience (and with such penetrating rays I felt my own optics to be
only too wearily oppressed); we must give up our high ideals, take people
as we find then, and submit gracefully to the inevitable."
Still I was in as much of a quandary as ever as to what I should choose
to consider the inevitable in my own path. It never occurred to me in
this dilemma to seek advice from the elder members of my own family. They
knew nothing really of my situation in Wallencamp, and even if they had
been informed more truthfully in regard to it, I thought they could
hardly be expected to appreciate the peculiarly trying circumstances in
which I was placed just at present.
Mothers were excellent for mending gloves, taking ink stains out of white
dresses with lemon juice, etc., etc.; but there were certain exigencies
in the remote and exalted life of those who go on "missions" which their
humble though loving skill must ever fail to reach.
I did write home, by the way, for more spending-money.
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