Page:Hollyhock house; a story for girls (IA hollyhockhousest00tagg).pdf/265

Rh Jane,” retorted Mrs. Moulton dryly. “She’s a dear girl, very fine and dear; I don’t mean that she’s not, but I do mean that the old-fashioned talents, like Mary’s, make everybody happier than Jane’s cleverness can—not excepting, indeed, first of all!—their possessor.”

“Jane is devoted, generous, unselfish, as well as clever,” said Mrs. Garden. “Of course I know you think so. I appreciate Mary, or appreciate her as well as I am able. I realize that no one can sound Mary’s depths in as short a time as I’ve known her. But you must let me rejoice in having one artist daughter, Mrs. Moulton, please! It is such a great thing to be a true artist!”

“I doubt that it makes a woman happier. I want Jane to find her happiness in simple things—for her own sake. Don’t foster an ambition for a career in her, Lynette,” Mrs. Moulton urged.

Mrs. Garden laughed. “I fancy it wouldn’t alter anything, dear Mrs. Moulton,” she said. “Jane will find her own level. Do look at her, kneeling by the fountain! Would you not be sure it was a deep, dark pool, and that she was going to her mad death? Ophelia ends there; they must all guess it. But what a child!”