Free Dolores by Ivy Compton-Burnett Page A

so—with the higher help,” said Mr Billing, dropping his voice at the last words, and making, we will suppose, some transition in their application.
    â€œI was so much struck by the simile at the end of it,” continued Mrs Blackwood. “It is such a beautiful idea—that every good action leaves its light behind—‘a light that shall never be quenched.’ You know there is something of the same idea in Shakespeare; when Portia says that, just as the light shines from a window on the darkness of the night, ‘so shines a good deedin a wicked world.’ You know the passage, Mr Billing?”
    â€œYes, I believe I have come across it,” said Mr Billing—“that is, I do not think it strikes me as—as being new to me.”
    â€œBut I think we may accord Mr Billing the tribute of originality,” said Lettice, whom her family considered intellectual. “His idea and that of Shakespeare are quite different.”
    â€œYes—I do not think they are the same,” said Mr Billing, turning slightly red, and looking down.
    â€œIt is when Portia and her maid are returning from the trial of Antonio,” continued Mrs Blackwood; “and Portia sees the light of her own windows from the road. What a fine play it is, is it not, Mr Billing? I think it is quite one of Shakespeare’s finest.”
    â€œYes—indeed—do you?” said Mr Billing. “I am not a great reader of Shakespeare myself, I am afraid.”
    â€œIt—is—strange,” interposed Dr Cassell, “how extremely little is known of Shakespeare—as a man. I believe that almost the only authentic story about his youth is—that he was on one occasion taken up for poaching.”
    â€œOthers abide our question. Thou art free,” quoted the Reverend Cleveland in an undertone; as if, though not caring to join in the talk, he did not grudge it a subdued note of culture.
    â€œThat is such a sweet po-em, Mr Hutton,” said Mrs Merton-Vane. “I used to be so fond of poetry when I was a gi-rl. But that is a long while ago now.”
    â€œWell, my
darling”
said Mr Blackwood to his wife, “suppose we go in to supper, and postpone any further talk till our guests have had some refreshment.”
    â€œOr are having some,” put in Dr Cassell, with a smile.
    â€œYes, let us, mother,” said Elsa, who enjoyed saying things to draw attention. “You can sit by Mr Billing, and indulge in physical and spiritual sustenance at the same time.”
    â€œWhat, de-ar?” said Mrs Merton-Vane, with amiable perplexity.
    Mrs Blackwood gave her daughter a glance of disapproval, as she led the way into the dining-room. Elsa had been indulged in childhood by parents exulting in her looks and her spirit; but of late had evinced some unfilial independence, and partiality for worldly things; in contrast to Lettice, who had already been converted, and had even given. an account of this process in herself as testimony at a meeting.
    â€œWell, now, Mr
Billing”
said Mr Blackwood, in one of his pauses in carving; which tended to occur rather frequently; his attention not being easily detained by unevangelistic duties;“I hope that you are of the same mind as my wife and myself upon the
Drink
question. You will never find wine or spirits upon
our
table. I hope that you and I are agreed on
that
subject, at any rate.”
    â€œYes, indeed, Mr Blackwood,” said Mr Billing; “yes, indeed. It has been a matter of great thankfulness to me, to find how much good work has been done in that direction in this neighbourhood—and done by your agency, if I understand aright. It is my opinion that there would be very little wrong with our old country, if we could get rid of the drink.”
    â€œHear, hear!” said Mr Blackwood, laying down the carving knife and fork. “That is the sort of thing that it does one
good
to listen