"That's as may be."
"We can stay the night at Mrs. D'Arcy's, and she will be delighted to have us. If we never show ourselves it would be as though we acknowledged ourselves to be crushed. And to tell the truth, papa, I don't think it is quite fair to Ada to keep her here always. She is very beautiful, and at the same time fond of society. She is doing her duty here bravely; there is nothing about the house that she will not put her hand to. She is better than any servant for the way she does her work. I think you ought to let her go; it is but for the one night."
"And you?" asked the father.
"I must go with her, I suppose, to keep her company."
"And are not you fond of society?"
"No;—not as she is. I like the rattle very well just for a few minutes."
"And are not you beautiful?" he asked.
"Good gracious, no! Don't be such a goose, papa."
"To me you are quite as lovely as is Ada."
"Because you are only a stupid, old papa," but she kissed him as she said it. "You have no right to expect to have two beauties in the family. If I were a beauty I should go away and leave you, as will Ada. It's her destiny to be carried off by someone. Why not by some of these gallant fellows at Galway? It's my destiny to remain at home; and so you may know what you have got to expect."