he had a knack of impressing the people with whom
she talked, not so much with a sense of her cleverness as with a sense
of their own. She not only talked well herself, she made other people
talk well also--a far more excellent gift.

"So," she went on, "if his uncle hadn't adopted him, I suppose Chris
would have starved to death when he was a child; and that would have
been extremely unpleasant for him, poor boy!"

"Ah! that would have been terrible, my dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Herbert, so
full of pity for Christopher that she was willing to give him anything
short of her firstborn. She was really a kind-hearted woman.

Elisabeth looked out of the window at the group of stunted shrubs with
black-edged leaves which entitled Felicia's home to be called Wood Glen.
"There is one thing to be said in favour of starvation," she said
solemnly, "it would keep one from getting stout, and stoutness is the
cruellest curse of all. I'd rather be dead than stout any day."

"My dear child, you are talking nonsense. What would be the advantage of
being thin if you were not alive?"

"When you come to that, what would be the advantage of being alive if
you weren't thin?" retorted Elisabeth.

"The two cases are not parallel, my dear; you see you couldn't be thin
without being alive, but you could be alive without being thin."

"It is possible; I have come across such cases myself, but I devoutly
trust mine may never be one of them. As the hymn says, I shall always be
'content to fill a little space.'"

"Ah! but I think the hymn doesn't mean it quite in that sense. I believe
the hymn refers rather to the greatness of one's attainments and
possessions than to one's personal bulk."

Elisabeth opened her eyes wide with an expression of childlike
simplicity. "Do you really think so?"

"I do, my dear. You know one must not take poetry too literally; verse
writers are allowed what is termed 'poetic license,' and are rarely, if
ever, quite accurate in their statements. I suppose it would be too
difficult for anybody to get both the truth and the rhyme to fit in, and
so the truth has to be somewhat adapted. But about Mr. Thornley, my
love; you don't think that he and Felicia are at all interested in one
another?"

"Good gracious, no! I'm sure they are not. If they had been, I should
have spotted it and talked about it ages ago."

"I hope you are not given to talk about such things, even if you do
perceive them," said Mrs. Herbert, with