"
"Yes, I don't think you need bother about ideals," said Maud, "it's
wonderful the depressing power of words; there are such a lot of
fine and obvious things in the world, perfectly distinct,
absolutely necessary, and yet the moment they become professional,
they deprive one of all spirit and hope--Jane has that effect on
me, I am afraid. I am sure she is a fine creature, but her view
always makes me feel uncomfortable--now Cousin Anne takes all the
things one needs for granted, and isn't above making fun of them;
and then they suddenly appear wholesome and sensible. She is quite
clear on the point; now if SHE wanted you to stay, it would be
different."
"Very well, so be it!" said Howard; "I feel I am caught in feminine
toils. I am like a child being taught to walk--every step
applauded, handed on from embrace to embrace. I yield! I will take
my beautiful mind back to Cambridge, I will go on moulding
character, I will go on suggesting high motives. But the
responsibility is yours, and if you turn me into a prig, it will
not be my fault."
"Ah, I will take the responsibility for that," said Maud, "and, by
the way, hadn't we better begin to look out for a house? I can't
live in College, I believe, not even if I were to become a
bedmaker?"
"Yes," said Howard, "a high-minded house of roughcast and tile,
with plenty of white paint inside, Chippendale chairs, Watts
engravings. I have come to that--it's inevitable, it just expresses
the situation; but I mustn't go on like this--it isn't funny, this
academic irony--it's dreadfully professional.
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