"Very likely," said Alice, stooping to pick up a pin.
"Well, for my part," said the little lady, "I never would take any pains to make any body like me—particularly a gentleman."
"I would," said Alice, "if they would not like me without."
"Why, Alice! I should not think you were so fond of admiration."
"I like to be admired very much," said Alice, returning to the sofa, "and I suppose every body else does."
"I don't care about admiration," said the little lady. "I would be as well satisfied that people shouldn't like me as that they should."
"Then, cousin, I think it's a pity we all like you so well," said Alice, with a good-humored smile. If Miss Alice had penetration, she never made a severe use of it.
"But really, cousin," said the little lady, "I should not think such a girl as you would think any thing about dress, or admiration, and all that."
"I don't know what sort of a girl you think I am," said Alice, "but, for my own part, I only pretend to be a common human being, and am not ashamed of common human feelings. If God has made us so that we love admiration, why should we not honestly say so. I love it—you love it—every body loves it; and why should not every body say it?"
"Why, yes," said the little lady, "I suppose every body has a—has a—a general love for admiration. I am willing to acknowledge that I have; but——"