Mrs. Culpeper, a small imperious woman of distinguished lineage and
uncertain temper, had gone through an entire life seeing only one thing
at a time, and never seeing that one thing as it really was. If her
husband embodied the moral purpose, she herself was an incarnation of
the evasive idealism of the nineteenth century. Her universe was
comprised in her family circle; her horizon ended with the old brick
wall between the alley and the Culpepers' garden. All that related to
her husband, her eight children and her six grandchildren, was not only
of supreme importance and intense interest to her, but of unsurpassed
beauty and excellence. It was intolerable to her exclusive maternal
instinct that either virtue or happiness should exist in any degree,
except a lesser measure, outside of her own household; and praise of
another woman's children conveyed to her a secret disparagement of her
own. Having naturally a kind heart she could forgive any sin in her
neighbours except prosperity--though as Corinna had once observed, with
characteristic flippancy, "Continual affliction was a high price to pay
for Aunt Harriet's favour.
Pages:
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103