It was not very pleasant to listen to this kind of talk, but the Lady
remembered her annual bouquet, and her occasional visits from the rich
lady, and restrained the inclination to remind her of the humble sphere
from which she herself, the rich and patronizing personage, had worked
her way up (if it was up) into that world which she seemed to think was
the only one where a human being could find life worth having. Her cheek
flushed a little, however, as she said to Mrs. Midas that she felt
attached to the place where she had been living so long. She doubted,
she was pleased to say, whether she should find better company in any
circle she was like to move in than she left behind her at our
boarding-house. I give the old Master the credit of this compliment. If
one does not agree with half of what he says, at any rate he always has
something to say, and entertains and lets out opinions and whims and
notions of one kind and another that one can quarrel with if he is out of
humor, or carry away to think about if he happens to be in the receptive
mood.
But the Lady expressed still more strongly the regret she should feel at
leaving her young friend, our Scheherezade. I cannot wonder at this.
The Young Girl has lost what little playfulness she had in the earlier
months of my acquaintance with her.
Pages:
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358