'Any woman may be beautiful,' was her
theory, 'but only a woman with good blood in her veins can have hands
and feet and a nose like yours--.' I was dreadfully handicapped in the
beginning of my life by my mother's point of view. I am afraid that
even now if the dear lady looks down from Heaven and sees me working in
my Toy Shop she will feel the family disgraced by this one member who
is in trade. It was only in the later years that I found myself, that
I realized how I might reach out towards things which were broader and
bigger than the old ideals of aristocratic birth and inherited
possessions."
He thought of Hilda. "Yet it gave you something, Emily," he said,
slowly, "that not every woman has: good-breeding, and the ability to
look above the sordid. You are like Jean--all your world is
rose-colored."
She was thoughtful. "Not quite like Jean. I heard a dear old bishop
ask the other day why we should see only the ash cans and garbage cans
in our back yards when there was blue sky above? I know there are ash
cans and garbage cans, but I make myself look at the sky. Jean doesn't
know that the cans are there.
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