Mary persisted in sarcasm. "Perhaps you can make her have a worse time by letting her stay."
"Please don't laugh," her interlocutor repeated. "Such a fact as I have mentioned to you seems to me to speak volumes—to show you what my life is."
"Oh, your life, your life!" Mary Gosselin murmured, with her mocking note.
"Don't you agree that at such a rate it may easily become impossible?"
"Many people would change with you. I don't see what there is for you to do but to bear your cross!"
"That's easy talk!" Lord Beaupré sighed.
"Especially from me, do you mean? How do you know I don't bear mine?"
"Yours?" he asked vaguely.
"How do you know that I'm not persecuted, that my footsteps are not dogged, that my life isn't a burden?"
They were walking in the old gardens, the proprietor of which, at this, stopped short. "Do you mean by fellows who want to marry you?"