very miserable not to resolve on some course and act accordingly."
"So I could, if
" Fred broke off, and stood up, leaning against the mantelpiece."If you were sure you should not have a fortune?"
"I did not say that. You want to quarrel with me. It is too bad of you to be guided by what other people say about me."
"How can I want to quarrel with you? I should be quarrelling with all my new books," said Mary, lifting the volume on the table. "However naughty you may be to other people, you are good to me."
"Because I like you better than any one else. But I know you despise me."
"Yes, I do—a little," said Mary, nodding, with a smile.
"You would admire a stupendous fellow, who would have wise opinions about everything."
"Yes, I should." Mary was sewing swiftly, and seemed provokingly mistress of the situation. When a conversation has taken a wrong turn for us, we only get farther and farther into the swamp of awkwardness. This was what Fred Vincy felt.
"I suppose a woman is never in love with any one she has always known—ever since she can