"Well, Lucy Corbet, have you considered this matter?"
"I have, madam."
"And what is the answer?"
"The answer is No, madam!" I replied, with a firmness that surprised myself. "I have looked at the thing on all sides, and have come to the conclusion that I cannot serve you in this matter."
"Then the thing will be done without you, that is all!" said my lady coolly, though she looked disconcerted. "The thing will be done all the same, and you will lose the profit—that is all!"
"What shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul?" The words seemed to come without any will of mine.
My lady looked taken aback, but she recovered herself in a moment.
"Nonsense, child? Leave such dreams and delusions to the vulgar, and those who have their living to make thereby. I tell you again, girl, this world is all we can grasp,—all that we can make sure of. Let us make ourselves happy here, and leave the next, if there be any next—to care for itself!"
"Your ladyship is happy here, then!"
"What do you mean? How dare you—" said she, strangely agitated for a moment. Then resuming her lofty and careless demeanor, "Think well, Lucy Corbet—think well, before you speak! Is this your final answer?"