“I hope Antony will like me in it.”
“He admires you in everything you wear.”
“He was not near Filmer yesterday.”
“He was in New York.”
“Do you know that Harry has become quite ugly about the ball?—every one is talking about the depression in trade; I am sure there is more need to complain about the depression in pleasure—he was eager enough at first about it, but now he thinks the whole subject a bore. Last night he would not even speak to us about it; and this morning he had breakfast in his room, and poor mamma has everything to look after.”
“Perhaps he is saving himself for to-night.”
“But that is so mean. Men ought to have a few domestic amenities. Miss Polly Barnard says the reformation of men will be the mission of the coming woman. I wish some woman would begin her mission with Harry!”
“Did Miss Polly stay long with you?”
“Only three days. She talked to the servants about saving their money, and improving their minds, and they said she was ‘a perfect lady!’ A perfect lady is the highest praise servants have for any one they approve. We did not find her perfect. She scolded me about my worldliness, and called me a thoughtless little sinneress.” Then suddenly Rose’s face fell, and she covered it with her hands, and began to cry.