L. It would please me exceedingly, mousie: but there are times when we must both be displeased; more's the pity. Lily may stay for half an hour, if she likes.
Lily. I can't; because Isey never goes to sleep, if she is waiting for me to come.
Isabel. Oh, yes, Lily; I'll go to sleep to-night, I will, indeed.
Lily. Yes, it's very likely, Isey, with those fine round eyes! (To L.) You'll tell me something of what you've been saying, to-morrow, won't you?
L. No, I won't, Lily. You must choose. It's only in Miss Edgeworth's novels that one can do right, and have one's cake and sugar afterwards, as well (not that I consider the dilemma, to-night, so grave).
(Lily, sighing, takes Isabel's hand.)
Yes, Lily dear, it will be better, in the outcome of it, so, than if you were to hear all the talks that ever were talked, and all the stories that ever were told. Good night.
(The door leading to the condemned cells of the Dormitory closes on Lily, Isabel, Florrie, and other diminutive and submissive victims.)
Jessie (after a pause). Why, I thought you were so fond of Miss Edgeworth!