His scent for possible mischief was
tolerably keen; so was Christina's, and it is likely that if either of
them detected in him or herself the first faint symptoms of a want of
faith they were nipped no less peremptorily in the bud, than signs of
self-will in Ernest were--and I should imagine more successfully. Yet
Theobald considered himself, and was generally considered to be, and
indeed perhaps was, an exceptionally truthful person; indeed he was
generally looked upon as an embodiment of all those virtues which make
the poor respectable and the rich respected. In the course of time he
and his wife became persuaded even to unconsciousness, that no one could
even dwell under their roof without deep cause for thankfulness. Their
children, their servants, their parishioners must be fortunate _ipso
facto_ that they were theirs. There was no road to happiness here or
hereafter, but the road that they had themselves travelled, no good
people who did not think as they did upon every subject, and no
reasonable person who had wants the gratification of which would be
inconvenient to them--Theobald and Christina.
This was how it came to pass that their children were white and puny;
they were suffering from _home-sickness_.
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