Save
. Nature’s so terribly good. Don’t you think so, Mr. Stanhope?”Stanhope was standing by, silent, while Mrs. Parry communed with her soul and with one or two of her neighbours on the possibilities of dressing the Chorus. He turned his head and answered, “That Nature is terribly good? Yes, Miss Fox. You do mean ‘terribly’?””Why, certainly,” Miss Fox said. “Terribly–dreadfully–very.””Yes,” Stanhope said again. “Very. Only–you must forgive me; it comes from doing so much writing, but when I say ‘terribly’ I think I mean ‘full of terror’. A dreadful goodness.””I don’t see how goodness can be dreadful,” Miss Fox said, with a shade of resentment in her voice. “If things are good they’re not terrifying, are they?””It was you who said ‘terribly’,” Stanhope reminded her with a smile, “I only agreed.””And if things are terrifying,” Pauline put in, her eyes half closed and her head turned away as if she asked a casual question rather of the world than of him, “can they be good?”He looked down on her. “Yes, surely,” he said, with more energy. “Are our tremors to measure the Omnipotence?
