‘Oh! I really will, you know!’ she answered. ‘I will learn frankness from—let me see—from James.’
‘You cannot learn frankness, Rosa,’ said Mrs. Steerforth quickly—for there was always some effect of sarcasm in what Rosa Dartle said, though it was said, as this was, in the most unconscious manner in the world—‘in a better school.’
‘That I am sure of,’ she answered, with uncommon fervour. ‘If I am sure of anything, of course, you know, I am sure of that.’
Mrs. Steerforth appeared to me to regret having been a little nettled; for she presently said, in a kind tone:
‘Well, my dear Rosa, we have not heard what it is that you want to be satisfied about?’
‘That I want to be satisfied about?’ she replied, with provoking coldness. ‘Oh! It was only whether people, who are like each other in their moral constitution—is that the phrase?’
‘It’s as good a phrase as another,’ said Steerforth.
‘Thank you:—whether people, who are like each other in their moral constitution, are in greater danger than people not so circumstanced, supposing any serious cause of variance to arise between them, of being divided angrily and deeply?’
‘I should say yes,’ said Steerforth.
‘Should you?’ she retorted. ‘Dear me! Supposing then, for instance—any unlikely thing will do for a supposition—that you and your mother were to have a serious quarrel.’