Sometimes the wicked get what they
deserve. More often they don't. There seems to be no rule. Follow
the dictates of your conscience, Veronica, and blow--I mean be
indifferent to the consequences. Sometimes you'll come out all
right, and sometimes you won't. But the beautiful sensation will
always be with you: I did right. Things have turned out
unfortunately: but that's not my fault. Nobody can blame me."
"But they do," said Veronica, "they blame you just as if you'd meant
to go and do it."
"It does not matter, Veronica," I pointed out, "the opinion of the
world. The good man disregards it."
"But they send you to bed," persisted Veronica.
"Let them," I said. "What is bed so long as the voice of the inward
Monitor consoles us with the reflection--"
"But it don't," interrupted Veronica; "it makes you feel all the
madder. It does really."
"It oughtn't to," I told her.
"Then why does it?" argued Veronica. "Why don't it do what it ought
to?"
The trouble about arguing with children is that they will argue too.
"Life's a difficult problem, Veronica," I allowed. "Things are not
as they ought to be, I admit it. But one must not despair.
Something's got to be done."
"It's jolly hard on some of us," said Veronica. "Strive as you may,
you can't please everyone. And if you just as much as stand up for
yourself, oh, crikey!"
"The duty of the grown-up person, Veronica," I said, "is to bring up
the child in the way that it should go.
Pages:
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159