“Those people have not common sense,” replied the niece.
“I believe I have not common sense,” said Helen.
“Sense you have enough—resolution is what you want, Helen, I tell you.”
“I know,” said Helen, “too true——”
“True, but not too true—nothing can be too true.”
“True,” said Helen, with languid submission. Helen was not in a condition to chop logic, or ever much inclined to it; now less than ever, and least of all with Miss Clarendon, so able as she was. There is something very provoking sometimes in perfect submission, because it is unanswerable. But the langour, not the submission, afforded some cause for further remark and remonstrance.
“Helen, you are dreadfully languid to-day.”
“Sadly,” said Helen.
“If you could have eaten more arrow-root before it grew cold, you would have been better.”
“But if she could not, my dear Esther,” said aunt Pennant.