“Ah! And what do you do all day?”
“Oh!” I began, doubtfully, “not much, I am afraid, that is useful or valuable.”
“You are young enough yet. Don’t begin to do things with a purpose for some time to come. Be happy while you can.”
“I am not at all happy,” I replied, not thinking of what I was saying, and then feeling that I could have bitten my tongue out with vexation. What could it possibly matter to Miss Hallam whether I were happy or not? She was asking me all these questions to pass the time, and in order to talk about something while she sat in our house.
“What makes you unhappy? Are your sisters disagreeable?”
“Oh, no!”
“Are your parents unkind?”
“Unkind!” I echoed, thinking what a very extraordinary woman she was and wondering what kind of experience hers could have been in the past.
“Then I can not imagine what cause for unhappiness you can have,” she said, composedly.