“Herself,” said Katherine decisively. “Miss Odd of course we have had time to make up our minds about.”
“I like her; don’t you? She has such a clear, trustful face.”
“She is rather rigid; about as hard on other people as she would be on herself. She could never do anything wrong.”
“I don’t quite like that; being hard on other people, I mean. One could be quite sure about one’s own wrongness, but how can one about other people’s? It is rather uncharitable, isn’t it, Katherine?”
“She isn’t very charitable, but she is very just. As for Lord Allan, he is a sort of type, and, therefore, not very entertaining.”
“A type of what?”
“Oh, just the eldest son type; very handsome, very honest, very good, with a strong sense of responsibility. Jimmy Hope is just like him, which is a great pity, as one expects a difference in the younger son—more interest.”
Katharine went to sleep with a warmly comfortable sense of competence. She doubted whether many people saw things as clearly as she did.
She was wakened by an unpleasant dreaming scream from Hilda.
“What is the matter, Hilda?” She spoke crossly. “How you startled me.”