Life was full of blessed certainties to enjoy without spoiling them by speculating over possible unpleasantnesses.
The old gentleman--Cheiron--and old William and the timid curate who came to dine on Saturday nights once a month were about the only male creatures Halcyone had ever spoken to within her recollection--their rector was a confirmed invalid and lived abroad--but Priscilla had a supreme contempt for them as a sex.
"One and all set on themselves, my lamb," she said; "even your own beautiful father had to be bowed down to and worshiped.

We put up with it in him, of course; but I never did see one that didn't think of himself first.

It is their selfishness that causes all the sorrow of the world to women.

We needn't have lost your angel mother but for Mr.
Anderton's selfishness--a kind, hard, rough man--but as selfish as a gentleman." It seemed a more excusable defect to Priscilla in the upper class, but had no redeeming touch in the status of Mr.Anderton.
Halcyone, however, had a logical mind and reasoned with her nurse: "If they are _all_ selfish, Priscilla, it must be either women's fault for letting them be, or God intended them to be so.

A thing can't be _all_ unless the big force makes it." This "big force"-- this "God" was a real personality to Halcyone.