"Suppose it should be a rich uncle turned up to make you his heiress," said Flossie. "Would not that be lovely? You would not have to be a governess then."
"No, indeed. Oh, it would be lovely!" exclaimed Juliet, her imagination elated by the idea. "But it is not in the least likely! Such a thing would never happen to me."
"I don't know about that. It seems to me that you are just the one to whom nice things should happen. I can fancy you becoming anything—a prima donna, a duchess, a queen!" said Flossie, who set no limits to her flattering speech.
Juliet laughed, and shook her head.
"A poor little drudge of a daily governess is what you may fancy me, Flossie," she said. But she was not ill-pleased by the tribute paid to her vanity. "I wonder who that gentleman is," she said, glancing back at the clergyman's retreating form. "Do you not think he has a nice face?"
"No, indeed. I thought him remarkably ugly," replied Flossie; "but I admit he is rather distinguished-looking. A gentleman, no doubt."
"I like his face," said Juliet; "it looks so good and strong."
"Really, Juliet, I did not know you were so fond of good people!" said Flossie, laughing.
"I do not admire people who think themselves good, and want to put everyone else right," said Juliet, "but I do like people who are really good. I wish—"
Juliet suddenly checked herself, with an instinctive sense that Flossie would not understand her wish. How could she express the emotion with which, in spite of her perversity and self-will, her heart would often swell as she thought of all that is good, and true and beautiful in human life?