“Don’t use such charming language, my sweetest; her Ladyship might not admire it. And if I were you, I would make myself scarce; she is coming this way.”
“Then I will go the other,” said I, and I did.
To my astonishment, as soon as I had left her, what should Hatty do but walk up and shake hands with Cecilia, and in a few minutes they and Mr Parmenter were all laughing about something. I was amazed beyond words. I had always thought Hatty pert, teasing, disagreeable; but never underhand or mean. But just then I saw a good-looking young man join them, and offer his arm to Hatty for a walk round the room; and it flashed on me directly that this was young Mr Crossland, and that he was a friend of Mr—I mean Sir Anthony—Parmenter.
When we were undressing that night, I said,—
“Annas, can a person do anything to make the world better?”
“What person?” asked she, and smiled.
“Well, say me. Can I do anything?”
“Certainly. You can be as good as you know how to be.”
“But that won’t make other people better.”
“I do not know that. Some other people it may.”