You want to build before you've laid your foundations," said Mr. Paramor.
"You let your feelings carry you away.
Next to him was Mrs. Hussell Barter, with that touching look to be seen
on the faces of many English ladies, that look of women who are always
doing their duty, their rather painful duty; whose eyes, above cheeks
creased and withered, once rose-leaf hued, now over-coloured by strong
weather, are starry and anxious; whose speech is simple, sympathetic,
direct, a little shy, a little hopeless, yet always hopeful; who are ever
surrounded by children, invalids, old people, all looking to them for
support; who have never known the luxury of breaking down.
The Rector, who practically never suffered, disliked the thought and
sight of others' suffering. Up to this day, indeed, there had been none
to dislike, for in answer to inquiries his wife had always said "No,
dear, no; I'm all right--really, it's nothing." And she had always said
it smiling, even when her smiling lips were white. But this morning in
trying to say it she had failed to smile. Her eyes had lost their
hopelessly hopeful shining, and sharply between her teeth she said: "Send
for Dr. Wilson, Hussell."
Man who, having turned all social problems over in his mind, had decided
that there was no real safety but in the past.