"
She spoke with extreme bitterness, and the girls looked at her,
astonished. It was difficult to believe any one could prefer plain
comfort in a porter's lodge to a title and estates.
"But you wrote?" questioned Faith, eager to hear the whole.
"Of course. We were as foolish as all the rest of the world! We
thought happiness and gold and honor the three Graces, instead of
Faith, Hope, and Charity," smiling into the girls' excited faces.
"And isn't happiness?"--began Hope, but she shook her head.
"Not worldly happiness--no. It is too brief, too treacherous. If one
learns to depend upon that, one is doomed to perpetual disappointment.
I have long understood that contentment is better than what we call
happiness--much better. Yes, we wrote, laughing together over the
possibility that our ancestral home might be seeking us, but believing
nothing of the kind. How we did joke over our united efforts at
composing it! He was the scholar, but I suggested all sorts of
long-stilted sentences to him, which he modified to suit himself. He
used to think me bright in those days. When it was signed, addressed,
and sealed, we looked into each other's eyes.
"'I wonder if we'll ever regret this?' said Duncan, serious for the
first time. He was always more grave than I, and used often to curb my
high spirits--who would think it now?
"'Fiddle-faddle! Regret a pot of money, or a Queen's commission as
Field-marshal?' I asked flippantly.
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