He gave a start of surprise. “What’s that you said?” he asked, incredulously.
“I said, independent.”
There was a tense pause.
“Somebody’s been putting some silly modern ideas into your head. All that bosh about independence, I mean. A girl’s place is in the home, when she’s got one. Until you make a home of your own your place is here.”
“I suppose you think I ought to get married.”
“Married? ... Heavens, no! ... You’re only nineteen! Why, I never even met your mother until I was twenty-four! Don’t you worry your head about marriage. Let it alone until the right feller comes along. I expect you’ve been reading too many trashy novels lately, that’s what it is.”
An angry light leapt into her eyes.
“Well, if you think I’m going to scrub floors and wash dishes until the right feller comes along, as you call it, you’re jolly well mistaken. I wouldn’t do it even if I was sure the right feller would come along. I’m not made that way. I want a bit of liberty. I want to live.”
“My dear Catherine, you have everything you need. I can’t see what you’re making all this fuss about. Really I can’t.... You’re a good deal better off than some girls, I can tell you. What about poor Nellie Selborne and——”
“Oh, what on earth have they got to do with it?”