'Yes,' said Anne, 'and so does everyone, and so Lizzie told me.'
'Lizzie?' said Helen; 'I thought she considered me as great a baby as ever.'
'No, no, my dear,' said Anne; 'I will tell you what she said of you. She said you were almost all she could wish in a sister, and that you were quite a reflective creature; and that is high praise from her.'
'Well, if she thinks so,' said Helen, 'she does not shew it; she is always making game of my opinions and feelings.'
'So she does of almost everyone's,' said Anne; 'but that is no proof that she does not love them.'
'And she will never listen to anything that I say, or take interest in anything I care for,' continued Helen.
'Indeed, Helen, you only think so because you do not understand her ways,' said Anne; 'all last month she could think of nothing but the Consecration, and Horace's going to school. Now all that is over and you are quiet again, after we are gone you will get on capitally together.'
'I am sure she contradicts every word I say,' said Helen.
'That is not out of unkindness, I assure you,' said Anne, who unfortunately could not deny that such was the fact. 'She only likes an argument, which sharpens your wits, and does no harm, if both sides are but good-humoured and cheerful. She will find you out in time, and you will understand her better.'
'Oh! Lizzie is delightful when she does not contradict,' said Helen; 'she is cleverer than anyone I ever saw, even than Fanny Staunton, and Papa says her patience and diligence with Horace were beyond all praise; but I can never be clever enough for her to make me her friend.'