i. 7).
L. Quite right, May. Well, then, who are called to be that? People
in Rome only?
MAY. Everybody, I suppose, whom God loves.
L. What! little girls as well as other people?
MAY. All grown-up people, I mean.
L. Why not little girls? Are they wickeder when they are little?
MAY. Oh, I hope not.
L Why not little girls, then? (Pause)
LILY. Because, you know we can't be worth anything if we're ever
so good,--I mean, if we try to be ever so good and we can't do
difficult things--like saints.
L I am afraid, my dear that old people are not more able or
willing for their difficulties than you children are for yours.
All I can say is, that if ever I see any of you, when you are
seven or eight and twenty, knitting your brows over any work you
want to do or to understand as I saw you Lily knitting your brows
over your slate this morning I should think you very noble women.
But--to come back to my dream--St Barbara did lose her temper a
little, and I was not surprised. For you can't think how provoking
Neith looked, sitting there just like a statue of sandstone, only
going on weaving like a machine and never quickening the cast of
her shuttle, while St Barbara was telling her so eagerly all about
the most beautiful things and chattering away, as fast as bells
ring on Christmas Eve, till she saw that Neilh didn't care, and
then St Barbara got as red as a rose, and stopped just in time,--
or I think she would really have said something naughty.
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