"Oh, not a bit—just her mother over again," said Miss Julia, decidedly.
"If she is her mother over again, she must be a very good child," said Mrs. Paget. "A more blameless person than Anna Van Schoonhoven I never knew."
"Oh, the child is good enough—that is, I have never seen anything to the contrary," answered Miss Julia, carelessly. "But the trouble is she is so totally uninteresting. She has no talent."
"Of any kind?" asked Mrs. Paget. And Amity knew by the tone of her voice just how her eyebrows went up as she spoke.
"Why no," answered Miss Julia. "She has no ear for music; in fact she can hardly tell one tune from another. She has no talent for drawing, and I don't believe she will ever pronounce French decently. And then she is so hopelessly common looking. Her figure might be improved by proper corsets, I think, but she complains that they hurt her, and so papa won't let her wear them. Such absurd ideas men have! But it don't make much difference. No dressing will ever make anything of her but a dowdy Dutch doll. It is really a great disappointment."
"I dare say," said Mrs. Paget.
"I want papa to send her to Mrs. Green's," continued Miss Julia: "I am sure she will make something of the child, if any one can; but he has taken up the most singular prejudice against Mrs. Green, and won't let her go. He says Mrs. Green has no reality in herself, and takes all they have out of her pupils. I wish you would use your influence with him."
"I am afraid I do not like Mrs. Green any better than Mr. Bogardus does," said Mrs. Paget. "But where is Amity? I have not seen her at all."
"Oh, she is moping about the place somewhere, I suppose," said Aunt Julia. "She is given to that kind of thing. See, there is a carriage. Shall we go in?"
"I don't think I will. I don't care about meeting strangers," said Mrs. Paget, glancing at her deep mourning. "I will climb up on the rocks and look at the view—I should like to see the summer-house again."