She paused.
“Well,” said Grandpapa, “you’ve told me all the things you don’t mean to do. Now tell me what you’ve really decided.”
Lydia, although rather angry, could not help laughing outright, and immediately felt that her laughter had done herself and her cause more good than any amount of eloquence. Eloquence indeed was invariably wasted upon Grandpapa, who preferred any good speaking that might take place to be done by himself.
“Now, child, have done with this nonsense and speak out. What is it you want?”
Lydia drew a long breath.
“To go and work in London.”
There was a long pause, and then Grandpapa said in rather a flat voice:
“So that’s it, is it? Well, well, well—who’d have thought it?”
“Grandpapa! you didn’t think I should stay here always?” protested Lydia. “How am I ever to get any experience, in one place all the time, never seeing any new people?”
“‘Never’ is a long day,” quoth Grandpapa.