The queer thing was that none of them seemed to think the truth could
possibly matter on its own account, or that anything mattered besides
being happy or miserable. Yet everybody, except Aunt Lavvy, was
determined that everybody else should be happy in their way by believing
what they believed; and when it came to Pantheism even Aunt Lavvy
couldn't live and let live. You could see that deep down inside her it
made her more furious than Unitarianism made Papa.
Mary saw that she was likely to be alone in her adventure. It appeared to
her more than ever as a journey into a beautiful, quiet yet exciting
country where you could go on and on. The mere pleasure of being able to
move enchanted her. But nobody would go with her. Nobody knew. Nobody
cared.
There was Spinoza; but Spinoza had been dead for ages. Now she came to
think of it she had never heard anybody, not even Mr. Propart, speak of
Spinoza. It would be worse for her than it had ever been for Aunt Lavvy
who had actually known Dr. Martineau. Dr. Martineau was not dead; and if
he had been there were still lots of Unitarian ministers alive all over
England. And in the end Aunt Lavvy had broken loose and gone into her
Unitarian Chapel.
She thought: "Not till after Grandmamma was dead. Till years after
Grandmamma was dead."