"Oh, Henrietta," said poor Mrs. Faithful, "when you talk like this at such a moment, you break my heart."
Henrietta continued to stare very hard.
"I can't cry about 'Dysy—give me your answer, do,'" she remarked, "but somehow I don't mind old Dinah with her 'thees' and her 'thous.' Of course, I said from the first that Dysy would hop out. She was always a delicate little thing. We used to fuss about her a lot when we were in a proper school. Then poor mumsie broke her neck. We never saw mumsie after she married the Rector, so naturally we didn't much mind; but we did mind the loss of our fortune. It was an awful blow to us. It was beastly unfair; don't you think so, Mrs. Faithful?"
"I don't think about it, child. In the Country where poor Daisy is going money is of no account."
"Poor old Dysy! Well, to be sure, she had lots of fun in her! I declare, you look as though you were sorry for her."
"I am, my child—most bitterly sorry!"
"And are you, perhaps, a bit sorry for me?"
"Yes, Henrietta; oh, yes." And Jane Faithful, that sternest of women, gave way utterly and began to weep.
Henrietta continued to stare at her, then she said in a low voice: "Dear, goodness gracious! What a fuss about nothing! I don't mind staying with Dinah. Her 'thees' and 'thous' are so funny. I take them off like anything. I imitate her like fun, and she never answers back."
"Henrietta, have you any heart?"