“Well, I was seventeen a month ago, so I have put up my hair. How do you like it?”
“It is lovely,” I said.
“My maid thinks it is. I don’t much bother about it. I have one great desire in life. I long for the unattainable.”
“I should think anything could be attained by you.”
“Not a bit of it. The thing that I want I can’t attain to.”
“What do you want?”
“To be very, very plain, to have a free time, to do exactly what I like—to knock over tables, to skim about the country at my own sweet will unchaperoned and unstared at; never to be expected to make a great match; never to have any one say, ‘If Lilian doesn’t do something wonderful we shall be disappointed.’”
“Oh, well, you never will get those things,” I said. After a time I continued—for she kept on looking at me—“Would you change with me if you could?”
“I shouldn’t like to give up mamma—dear mamma is a darling; she really is, although she is always putting her foot into it. She put her foot into it now; but, you see, it was rather good after all, for I saw you and I noticed that you had heard what mamma said. Now, mother never does outré things with her body, but with her lips she is always giving herself away. I couldn’t leave her even to change with you.”
“Well, I’m plain enough.”