May 26, Sunday. - We went to Sutton after dinner to have meat-tea
with Mr. and Mrs. James. I had no
appetite, having dined well at
two, and the entire evening was spoiled by little Percy - their
only son - who seems to me to be an utterly spoiled child.
Two or three times he came up to me and
deliberately kicked my
shins. He hurt me once so much that the tears came into my eyes.
I
gently remonstrated with him, and Mrs. James said: "Please don't
scold him; I do not believe in being too
severe with young
children. You spoil their character."
Little Percy set up a deafening yell here, and when Carrie tried to
pacify him, he slapped her face.
I was so annoyed, I said: "That is not my idea of bringing up
children, Mrs. James."
Mrs. James said. "People have
different ideas of bringing up
children - even your son Lupin is not the standard of perfection."
A Mr. Mezzini (an Italian, I fancy) here took Percy in his lap.
The child wriggled and kicked and broke away from Mr. Mezzini,
saying: "I don't like you - you've got a dirty face."
A very nice gentleman, Mr. Birks Spooner, took the child by the
wrist and said: "Come here, dear, and listen to this."
He detached his chronometer from the chain and made his watch
strike six.
To our
horror, the child snatched it from his hand and bounced it
down upon the ground like one would a ball.
Mr. Birks Spooner was most
amiable, and said he could easily get a
new glass put in, and did not suppose the works were damaged.
To show you how people's opinions
differ, Carrie said the child was
bad-tempered, but it made up for that
defect by its looks, for it
was - in her mind - an
unquestionably beautiful child.
I may be wrong, but I do not think I have seen a much uglier child
myself. That is MY opinion.
May 30. - I don't know why it is, but I never
anticipate with any
pleasure the visits to our house of Mrs. James, of Sutton. She is
coming again to stay for a few days. I said to Carrie this
morning, as I was leaving: "I wish, dear Carrie, I could like Mrs.
James better than I do."
Carrie said: "So do I, dear; but as for years I have had to put up
with Mr. Gowing, who is
vulgar, and Mr. Cummings, who is kind but
most uninteresting, I am sure, dear, you won't mind the occasional
visits of Mrs. James, who has more
intellect in her little finger
than both your friends have in their entire bodies."
I was so entirely taken back by this onslaught on my two dear old
friends, I could say nothing, and as I heard the 'bus coming, I
left with a
hurried kiss - a little too
hurried, perhaps, for my
upper lip came in
contact with Carrie's teeth and
slightly cut it.
It was quite
painful for an hour afterwards. When I came home in
the evening I found Carrie buried in a book on Spiritualism, called
THERE IS NO BIRTH, by Florence Singleyet. I need scarcely say the
book was sent her to read by Mrs. James, of Sutton. As she had not
a word to say outside her book, I spent the rest of the evening
altering the stair-carpets, which are
beginning to show signs of
wear at the edges.
Mrs. James arrived and, as usual, in the evening took the entire
management of everything. Finding that she and Carrie were making
some preparations for table-turning, I thought it time really to
put my foot down. I have always had the greatest
contempt for such
nonsense, and put an end to it years ago when Carrie, at our old
house, used to have seances every night with poor Mrs. Fussters
(who is now dead). If I could see any use in it, I would not care.
As I stopped it in the days gone by, I determined to do so now.
I said: "I am very sorry Mrs. James, but I
totallydisapprove of
it, apart from the fact that I receive my old friends on this
evening."
Mrs. James said: "Do you mean to say you haven't read THERE IS NO
BIRTH?" I said: "No, and I have no
intention of doing so." Mrs.
James seemed surprised and said: "All the world is going mad over
the book." I responded rather cleverly: "Let it. There will be
one sane man in it, at all events."
Mrs. James said she thought it was very
unkind, and if people were
all as prejudiced as I was, there would never have been the
electric
telegraph or the telephone.
I said that was quite a
different thing.
Mrs. James said
sharply: "In what way, pray - in what way?"
I said: "In many ways."
Mrs. James said: "Well, mention ONE way."
I replied quietly: "Pardon me, Mrs. James; I decline to discuss