"She might have been."
"Fair hair? Blue eyes?"
"Yes; a true Westlake in features and complexion; but somewhat thin for one of your family, as you may believe."
"Pale, delicate?"
"The winds of heaven have visited her too roughly."
"Graceful?"
"I should not dare to say Yes, seeing that grace is denied to New-England women; still less do I dare to say No, remembering how I have seen her taking her small brothers to their school, on the way to her own, making believe run races with them, to get the little wilful loiterers over the ground the quicker."
"Borrow, it is a hard life for Anna Westlake,—for my cousin's child."
"You would be a severe taskmaster, if you demanded of a slave such a day's work as hers. Of a slave! He would be insane who should expect it of any woman who had not the developed brain, the steady nerves, the abounding vitality of the born aristocrat.
"But how is Reginald ever going to pay his debt to this sister? Do you think she will be satisfied with anything short of seeing him President? Who knows but she looks for more yet? The Puritan stamp is as strong on her as on her grandfather. Who knows but she looks to see him one of the lights of the world,—one of the benefactors of his race,—a discoverer in science,—a reformer? Here are responsibilities for a boy to set out under!"