"If only,"
they said, "Timothy would meet her!" It was felt that she would do him
good. She could tell you, for instance, the latest story of Sir Charles
Fiste's son at Monte Carlo; who was the real heroine of Tynemouth Eddy's
fashionable novel that everyone was holding up their hands over,
and what they were doing in Paris about wearing bloomers. She was so
sensible, too, knowing all about that vexed question, whether to send
young Nicholas' eldest into the navy as his mother wished, or make
him an accountant as his father thought would be safer. She strongly
deprecated the navy. If you were not exceptionally brilliant or
exceptionally well connected, they passed you over so disgracefully,
and what was it after all to look forward to, even if you became an
admiral--a pittance! An accountant had many more chances, but let him be
put with a good firm, where there was no risk at starting!
Sometimes she would give them a tip on the Stock Exchange; not that Mrs.
Small or Aunt Hester ever took it. They had indeed no money to invest;
but it seemed to bring them into such exciting touch with the realities
of life. It was an event. They would ask Timothy, they said. But they
never did, knowing in advance that it would upset him.
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