“No,” said the frog; “you take no pains to act or to speak sensibly. And to say you detest anyone is absurd, ridiculous, to say nothing of bad manners.”
“You’ve never lived in Marble House, so you can afford to talk. Talk about vivisection! It was Mr. Barringcourt who openly deplored to me there was no such thing in our country. What do you think of that?”
“There are worse things than vivisection,” replied the frog. “If it were not for that I should never have been here, or alive now.”
“But—” said Rosalie, staring at it.
“Why don’t you cultivate a charming manner, Rosalie?”
“I expect I’m not made that way. Are my manners so uncouth?” and her expression was doleful.
“No; but I don’t see how you’re to get your six horses, chariot, and all the rest, unless you try to be more charming.”
“Well, Mr. Barringcourt will never help me that way. You should have seen the look he gave me last night, and then to-night, as if he’d never seen me before. Such folk give me quite a creepy feeling. Besides, talking about horses, his are black. Can’t you see he is the exact opposite of what I want? He would do all he could to hinder me. If it were not that once I saw him looking very tired I should detest him too. Oh, how I hate Lucifram! Somehow or other, I never feel at home here,” and she sighed.
“And you’ve got about all it can give you.”
“Then I’m like all the rest—ungrateful.”