"Why is it a pity?" asked the girl, her face flushing.
"Oh. I know you don't like the truth," Jennie went on, calmly. "But I always tell it, even when it is disagreeable. I don't think you are the kind of wife to suit the Master. You are too impetuous, too fond of admiration. You would never be content to take a back seat."
"I should think not!" cried Miss Cass, indignantly. "Catch me taking a back seat! I want to admired, to have an ample income and a big position. I am an individual, not a piece of furniture."
"Marry Mr. Heron, then," advised Jennie, "and you will have all you wish for. He belongs to a good county family, and can give you a position in society. He has a handsome income, and with your own dowry as well you would be rich."
"But I love Neil," persisted Ruth, piteously.
"Oh, no, you don't. You think you love him, but you are only attracted by his charm of manner."
"I believe you want to marry him yourself," cried Ruth, pettishly.
Jennie flushed, for, unknown to herself, Ruth had touched upon Miss Brawn's romance. She did love Webster, and she would have given many years of her life had that love been returned. But she saw no chance of this, and, like a sensible girl, crushed the passion in its birth.
"I never cry for the moon," she said, quietly "and there is no chance that the Master, who loves beautiful things, will ever fall in love with plain me. But if I were to marry him I should be prepared to make myself his echo--the piece of furniture you so scornfully allude to. Believe me, my dear, it is better in every way that you should reconsider your answer to Mr. Heron."
"I won't! I don't deny that I like Geoffrey very much indeed, and he took his rejection, so kindly, poor fellow, that I did feel very like changing my mind. But Neil--Neil!" Ruth clasped her hands and raised her expressive eyes. "Oh, I can't give him up."