"Well," said Miss Caldwell, "I suppose it's natural for a woman to be a fool in such matters—for most women," she corrected herself; "but if Caroline marries Malcolm Johnson I shall think her too foolish—and she has never seemed to me to be lacking in sense."
"Perhaps," said the pourer out of tea, a pretty damsel with large dark eyes, a little faded to match the room—"perhaps she wants a sphere."
"As if her aunt could not find her fifty spheres if she wanted them!"
"Too many, perhaps," said a tall lady with a sensible, school-teaching air. "I have sometimes thought that Mrs. Neal, with managing all her own children's families and her charities, had not much time or thought to spare for poor little Caroline. She is kind to her, but I doubt if she gives her much attention."
"A woman likes something of her own," said Mrs. Manson.
"Her own!" said Miss Caldwell. "How much good of her own is she likely to have if she marries Malcolm Johnson?"
"Yes," said Mrs. Spofford, "his motives would be plain enough; I dare say he's in love with her. Caroline is a lovely girl, but of course in such a case her money goes for something."
"But she has not so very much money," said Mildred, dropping a lump of sugar into a cup—"plenty, I suppose, for herself, but it would not support a large family like Mr. Johnson's."
"It would pay his taxes, my dear, and buy his coal," said Miss Caldwell, "and he has kept house long enough to appreciate the help that would be."
"Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Manson, "coal is so terribly high this winter!"