"It is a wretched life for you."
"No," said Mary, curtly, with a little toss of her head. "I think my life is pleasanter than your Miss Morgan's."
"Yes; but Miss Morgan is so uninteresting, and not young."
"She is interesting to herself, I suppose; and I am not at all sure that everything gets easier as one gets older."
"No," said Rosamond, reflectively; "one wonders what such people do, without any prospect. To be sure, there is religion as a support. But," she added, dimpling, "it is very different with you, Mary. You may have an offer."
"Has any one told you he means to make me one?"
"Of course not. I mean, there is a gentleman who may fall in love with you, seeing you almost every day."
A certain change in Mary's face was chiefly determined by the resolve not to show any change.
"Does that always make people fall in love?" she answered, carelessly; "it seems to me quite as often a reason for detesting each other."
"Not when they are interesting and agreeable. I hear that Mr Lydgate is both."