Dibble said Miss Christabel ought to be in London, at the British Museum, or somewhere.
When she knew a little more of things in general, Christabel said she meant to try her fortune. There were lots of marriages in the tale she was reading, and always a lot in the newspapers. Why shouldn’t she be married?
“Why, you be too young for that,” said Dibble. “I know a young gentleman as would make such a sweetheart for you,” said Dibble; “such a sweetheart!”
“Yes,” said Christabel, smiling her sweetest, and putting her hair to rights.
“But there, he be miles and miles away from here,” said Dibble; “and you’re never likely to see him, Ise afeared.”
“What is he like?” said Christabel, preparing for a flirtation in fancy.
“O, a handsome, nice young gentleman; and his name’s Paul.”
“What a jolly, stunning name!” said Christabel.
“He wouldn’t like you to speak like that,” said Dibble.
“How do you mean?” asked Christabel.