"And now?"
"Oh;—now; of course that is over," said Violet.
"It is over?"
"Quite over. Is he not going to marry Madame Goesler? I suppose all that is fixed by this time. I hope she will be good to him, and gracious, and let him have his own way, and give him his tea comfortably when he comes up tired from the House; for I confess that my heart is a little tender towards Phineas still. I should not like to think that he had fallen into the hands of a female Philistine."
"I do not think he will marry Madame Goesler."
"Why not?"
"I can hardly tell you;—but I do not think he will. And you loved him once,—eh, Violet?"
"Not quite that, my dear. It has been difficult with me to love. The difficulty with most girls, I fancy, is not to love. Mr. Finn, when I came to measure him in my mind, was not small, but he was never quite tall enough. One feels oneself to be a sort of recruiting sergeant, going about with a standard of inches. Mr. Finn was just half an inch too short. He lacks something in individuality. He is a little too much a friend to everybody."
"Shall I tell you a secret, Violet?"
"If you please, dear; though I fancy it is one I know already."