“I don’t think the rector would be like that, papa,” said Lucy; “he doesn’t look as if he ever wore slippers at all--”
“Well, perhaps, it is the other kind I am thinking of,” said Mr. Trevor, who had not much acquaintance with the class which he called “church parsons,” though his liberality of mind was such that he had brought up Lucy partially, at least, as a church woman. His conduct, in this respect, was much the same as it was in reference to the distinctions of society. He wanted her to have her share in all--to be familiar alike with poverty and riches, and, as a kind of moral consequence, with church and chapel, too.
It was almost a disappointment to the old man that Lucy let the subject drop, and showed no further interest in it. He was a great deal more excited about her future life than she was. Lucy’s life was, indeed, to her father at once his great object and his pet plaything. It was his determination that it should be such a life as no one had ever lived before; a perfection of beneficence, wisdom, well-doing, and general superiority. He wanted to guard her against all perils, to hedge her round from every enemy. Unfortunately, he knew very little of the world, the dangers of which he was so intent on avoiding; but he was quite unaware of his own ignorance. He foresaw the well-known danger of fortune-hunters; but he did not perceive the impossibilities of the arrangement by which he had, he flattered himself, so carefully and cleverly guarded against them. In this respect Lucy had more insight than her father, in her gentle indifference. Her life was not a matter of theory to Lucy. It was not a thing at all to be molded and formed by any one, it was to-day and to-morrow. She listened to, without being affected by, all her father’s plans for her. They seemed a dream--a story to her, the future to which they referred was quite unreal in her eyes.
“We met Philip, papa,” she said, after a pause, with her usual tranquillity. “He is always very nice to Jock. He put him upon his shoulder to see the Punch. And he says he is coming to see you.”
“You met Philip,” said the old man, “and he is coming to see me? Well, let him come, Lucy. He is a rising man, and a fine gentleman--too fine for a homely old man like me. But we are not afraid of Philip. Let him come; and let us hope he will find his match when he comes here.”