‘Generally.’
‘Oh! what opportunities are wasted on some people. Wouldn’t I have had fun! But of course he saw you were a poor little not-come-out thing, and never spoke to you. Oh! if Miss Charlecote would ask me to London!’
‘And me!’ chimed in Maria.
‘Well, what would you do?’
‘Not act like a goose, and bring home dry abstracts. I’d make Miss Charlecote take me everywhere, and quite forget all my science, unless I wanted to amaze some wonderful genius. Oh dear! won’t I make Augusta look foolish some of these days! She really thinks that steel attracts lightning! Do you think Miss Charlecote’s society will appreciate me, Phœbe?’
‘And me?’ again asked Maria.
Phœbe laughed heartily, but did not like Bertha’s scoffing mirth at Maria’s question. Glad as she was to be at home, her glimpse of the outer world had so enlarged her perceptions, she could not help remarking the unchildlike acuteness of the younger girl, and the obtuse comprehension of the elder; and she feared that she had become discontented and fault-finding after her visit. Moreover, when Bertha spoke much English, a certain hesitation occurred in her speech which was apt to pass unnoticed in her foreign tongues, but which jarred unpleasantly on her sister’s ear, and only increased when noticed.
At nine, when Phœbe rose as usual to wish good night, Miss Fennimore told her that she need not for the future retire before ten, the hour to which she had of late become accustomed. It was a great boon, especially as she was assured that the additional hour should be at her own disposal.
‘You have shown that you can be trusted with your time, my dear. But not to-night,’ as Phœbe was turning to her desk; ‘remember how long I have suffered a famine of conversation. What! were you not sensible of your own value in that respect?’
‘I thought you instructed me; I did not know you conversed with me.’