'My dear Olive, I shall be delighted to have you with me; but why can't you stop at home any longer—surely there is no harm in my asking?'
'Oh, I don't know; don't ask me; I am so miserable at home; I can't tell you how unhappy I am. I know I shall never be married, and the perpetual trying to make up matches is sickening. Mamma will insist on riches, position, and all that sort of thing—those kind of men don't want to get married—I am sick of going out; I won't go out any more. We never missed a tennis-party last year; we used to go sometimes ten miles to them, so eager was mamma after Captain Gibbon, and it did not come off; and then the whole country laughs.'
'And who is Captain Gibbon? I never heard of him before.'
'No, you don't know him: he was not in Galway in your time.'
'And Captain Hibbert! Have you heard from him since he went out to
India?'
'Yes, once; he wrote to me to say that he hoped to see me when he came home.'
'And when will that be?'
'Oh, I don't know; when people go out to India one never expects to see them again.'
Seeing how sore the wound was, Alice did not attempt to probe it, but strove rather to lead Olive's thoughts away from it, and gradually the sisters lapsed into talking of their acquaintances and friends, and of how life had dealt with them.
'And May, what is she doing?'