Phœbe assured him instantly that that had never been her idea of him.
"Shall I tell you who is selfish?"
Phœbe's little mouth hardened. She was so dreadfully afraid that he was going to say "Your father."
"You," he said, "you."
"I'm afraid I am," said she. "It's so hard not to be."
He stood still in his astonishment, so that she had to stand still, too.
"Of course it's hard not to give up things, when you like giving them up. But your sister likes giving them up, too, and it's selfish of you to prevent her, isn't it?"
"Oh, but you don't know what it's been—Effie's life and Mary's."
"And yours——"
"Oh, no, I'm happy enough. I'm the youngest."