“But what is going to be the use of me, if I, a great strong creature who can do lots of work, and shall soon understand farming better than papa, can’t cross the road without a footman at my heels to keep off tipsy coal miners? Oh, dear, I wish I weren’t a wretched girl!”
“You couldn’t be anything else, with that illogical mind, and that extravagant way of looking at things.”
“Illogical!” cried she, now really offended. “Why, papa says I have the most reasonable head he ever knew!”
“For a woman.”
Olivia was at first too much offended to answer.
“I’m papa’s right hand,” she said, at last, coldly. “I’m just like a son to him.”
“I think not, Miss Denison,” said the vicar, shaking his head.
“My father would tell you so himself, Mr. Brander.”
“And I should not believe him, Miss Denison.”
Olivia began to see that the vicar was enjoying her indignation, so she bit her lips and remained silent.