He was doing his work as well
as he knew how, and that was enough.
Now also he saw scarcely anything of lord Forgue either; he no
longer sought his superior scholarship. Lady Arctura he saw
generally once a week at the religion-lesson; of Miss Carmichael
happily nothing at all. But as he grew more familiar with the
countenance of lady Arctura, it pained him more and more to see it
so sad, so far from peaceful. What might be the cause of it?
Most well-meaning young women are in general tolerably happy--partly
perhaps because they have few or no aspirations, not troubling
themselves about what alone is the end of thought--and partly
perhaps because they despise the sadness ever ready to assail them,
as something unworthy. But if condemned to the round of a
tormenting theological mill, and at the same time consumed with
strenuous endeavour to order thoughts and feelings according to
supposed requirements of the gospel, with little to employ them and
no companions to make them forget themselves, such would be at once
more sad and more worthy. The narrow ways trodden of men are
miserable; they have high walls on each side, and but an occasional
glimpse of the sky above; and in such paths lady Arctura was trying
to walk. The true way, though narrow, is not unlovely: most
footpaths are lovelier than high roads. It may be full of toil, but
it cannot be miserable.
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