"It would have been a relief if you had made a good marriage," Mrs.
Osborn admitted. "Still, since you met nobody you like—"
"The men I might perhaps have liked were poor. Father would, no doubt, think it my natural perversity, or our bad luck; but I don't believe in luck. It's an excuse for weak makeshifts and futilities; one can conquer bad fortune if one is resolute."
"None of us, except you, has much resolution," Mrs. Osborn remarked and sighed. "So far, your firmness has not helped much; I imagine you know your father has not given up hope."
"Yes," said Grace, rather harshly. "I do know, and that is why I am often impatient. He will not be persuaded the thing's impossible."
"After all, Alan has some advantages."
"He has many drawbacks," Grace rejoined, and then her face softened and she gave her mother an appealing look. "I thought you were on my side!"
"I am on your side where you feel strongly. Perhaps I am reserved and you do not often give me your confidence."
"I'm sorry. We are seldom quite honest at Tarnside; somehow one can't be oneself, but now we must be frank. I don't like Alan Thorn; I never liked him. It's impossible."
"Then, my dear, there is no more to be said."
Grace made a sign of disagreement. "There may be much; that is why I am disturbed. You and I don't count, mother; we are expected to submit. It isn't that I don't like Alan; I shrink from him. He is cunning and knows how to wait. Sometimes his patience frightens me."