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CHAPTER VII.
KEEPING UP APPEARANCES.
And even while Fashion's brightest arts decoy,
The heart distrusting asks, if this be joy?"—Goldsmith.
"Rapine, avarice, expense,
This is idolatry; and these we adore:
Plain living and high thinking are no more;
The homely beauty of the good old cause
Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence
And pure religion, breaking household laws."
WORDSWORTH.
"Keeping up appearances" when the substance is wanting, to be prompted by a generous disposition without the power of giving effect to it, moving in a plane of life above the pecuniary standard of those who occupy it, is one of the most painful experiences the professional man—or any—can know.
Such was now Dr. Courtenay's position. His wife, a clever, stylish woman, was ambitious—for the girls' sake, as she said. Their elder daughter, Hilda, was a dashing, thoughtless girl, intent upon pleasure and admiration. Well-dressed and duly appointed, as, like her mother, she always managed to be, she was capable of making a decided impression in any drawing-room to which she was announced. Art and effect may have contributed more than nature and grace, vivacity of manner more than native power, yet so it was that Miss Courtenay
