Morning Calls

'Nonsense, John. One would think you were made of money.'

'Not quite, yet. But about the horses I'm determined. The last
time you were out in a cab, you came home with a headache from
the jolting.' 'I never complained of it, I'm sure.'

'No. My mother is not given to complaints,' said he, a little
proudly. 'But so much the more I have to watch over you. Now as
for Fanny there, a little hardship would do her good.'

'She is not made of the same stuff as you are, John. She could
not bear it.' Mrs. Thornton was silent after this; for her last
words bore relation to a subject which mortified her. She had an
unconscious contempt for a weak character; and Fanny was weak in
the very points in which her mother and brother were strong. Mrs.
Thornton was not a woman much given to reasoning; her quick
judgment and firm resolution served her in good stead of any long
arguments and discussions with herself; she felt instinctively
that nothing could strengthen Fanny to endure hardships
patiently, or face difficulties bravely; and though she winced as
she made this acknowledgment to herself about her daughter, it
only gave her a kind of pitying tenderness of manner towards her;
much of the same description of demeanour with which mothers are
wont to treat their weak and sickly children. A stranger, a
careless observer might have considered that Mrs. Thornton's
manner to her children betokened far more love to Fanny than to
John. But such a one would have been deeply mistaken. The very
daringness with which mother and son spoke out unpalatable
truths, the one to the other, showed a reliance on the firm
centre of each other's souls, which the uneasy tenderness of Mrs.
Thornton's manner to her daughter, the shame with which she
thought to hide the poverty of her child in all the grand
qualities which she herself possessed unconsciously, and which
she set so high a value upon in others--this shame, I say,
betrayed the want of a secure resting-place for her affection.
She never called her son by any name but John; 'love,' and
'dear,' and such like terms, were reserved for Fanny. But her
heart gave thanks for him day and night; and she walked proudly
among women for his sake.