"Well, Piers, the lad talked about his ideals, and said Art was its own reward, and a lot of rubbishy nonsense. But I never expected much from a boy called Augustus. That was his mother's whim; no Atheling was ever called such a name before. He wants to go to Italy, and his father wants him in the mill. Edgar is finding a few things out now he didn't believe in when he was twenty years old. The point of view is everything, Piers. Edgar looks at things as a father looks at them now; then, he had an idea that fathers knew next to nothing. Augustus is no worse than he was. Maybe, he will come to looms yet; he is just like the Curzons, and they were loom lovers. Now Cecil, his second boy, has far better notions. He likes a rod, and a horse, and a gun; and he thinks a gamekeeper has the best position in the world."
"Mrs. Atheling sets us all an example. She is always doing something for the people."
"They don't thank her for it. She brings lecturers, and expects them to go and hear them; and the men would rather be in the cricket field. She has classes of all kinds for the women and girls; and they don't want her interfering in their ways and their houses. I'll tell you what it is, Piers, you cannot write Reform upon flesh and blood as easy as you can write it upon paper. It will take a few generations to erase the old marks, and put the new marks on."
"Still Reform has been a great blessing. You know that, Father."
"Publicly, I know it, Piers. Privately, I keep my own ideas. But there is Kate calling us, and I see the carriage is waiting. Thank God, Reform has nothing to do with homes. Wives and children are always the same. We don't want them changed, even for the better."
"Yes, I do," said the Squire, positively. "My wife's faults are very dear to me. Do you think I would like to miss her bits of tempers, and her unreasonableness? Even when she tries to get the better of me, I like it. I wouldn't have her perfect, not if I could."
Then Piers called for his son; but Harold could not be found. The Squire laughed. "He has run away," he said. "The boy wants a holiday. I'll take good care of him. He isn't doing nothing; he is learning to catch a trout. Many a very clever man can't catch a trout." Then Piers asked his little daughters to come home with him; and Edith hid herself behind the ample skirts of her grandfather's coat, and Maude lifted her arms to her grandmother, and snuggled herself into her bosom.