Her daughter, Ethel, on the other hand, was the exact antithesis to
Alaric. She had never shown the slightest interest in anything since
she had first looked up at the man of medicine who ushered her into
the world. She regarded everything about her with the greatest
complacency. She was never surprised or angry, or pleased, or
depressed. Sorrow never seemed to affect her--nor joy make her
smile. She looked on life as a gentle brook down whose current she
was perfectly content to drift undisturbed. At least, that was the
effect created in Mrs. Chichester's mind. She never thought it
possible there might be latent possibilities in her impassive
daughter.
While her mother admired Ethel's lofty attitude of indifference
toward the world--a manner that bespoke the aristocrat--she secretly
chafed at her daughter's lack of enthusiasm.
How different to Alaric--always full of nearly new ideas: always
about to do something. Alaric kept those around him on the alert--no
one ever really knew what he would do next. On the other hand, Ethel
depressed by her stolid content with everything about her. Every one
knew what she would do--or thought they did.
Mrs. Chichester had long since abandoned any further attempt to
interest her brother Nathaniel in the children.
Pages:
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157