'I've no patience with him,' she thought; 'he thinks of nothing but his wretched book.'
Aware of his daughter's silence, Mr. Stone let the sheet of paper sink, and waited patiently again.
“What do you want, my dear?” he said.
“Oh, Father, do listen just a minute!”
“Yes, Yes.”
“It's about that girl who comes to copy for you. Is there any reason why she should come instead of any other girl?”
“Yes,” said Mr. Stone.
“What reason?”
“Because she has no friends.”
So awkward a reply was not expected by Cecilia; she looked at the floor, forced to search within her soul. Silence lasted several seconds; then Mr. Stone's voice rose above a whisper: