Baxter.
To May it seemed curious how an utter absence of speculation and an
honest engrossment in everyday cares, hopes, and duties appeared to
produce an attitude of mind similar in many ways to that caused by an
extensive survey of thought and a careful detachment of spirit from the
pursuits of the vulgar. The expression was different; the man who was now
so much in her thoughts, Weston Marchmont, would not have denounced
whimsy-whamsies. He would have claimed an open mind and protested that he
was ready to entertain every notion on its merits. But temper and taste
led to the same end as ignorance and simplicity; the philosopher and the
housewife met on a common ground of disapproval and disdain. Mrs. Baxter
kept her house and made petticoats. Marchmont read his books, mixed with
his world, and did his share in his obvious duty of governing the
country. Misty dreams, great cloudy visions, vague ideals, were forsworn
of both; they were all whimsy-whamsies, the hardly excusable occupation
of an idle day in the country. Was such a coincidence of opinion
conclusive? Perhaps.
Pages:
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100