4 notes &
From being a silly girl, she had turned overnight into the sort of woman he admired, a woman like her mother, someone who could be trusted to put up apple butter and cranberry jelly at the country place and handle her own stocks and bonds, who understood the mystique of never spending money foolishly, dressed simply but well, and if she had children, no matter how much she might dote on them, could be counted on to put whatever money he might have to leave her into a self-renewing trust; a woman who would teach those same children not only their catechism, but that other catechism whose first sentence is a stern directive that whatever we may do in this life, we must never touch our capital.
