But Ethel was meek and mild, and followed Penelope at a humble distance, modelling herself on that sweet mould of revolution. So might a penny candle imitate an arc-light; so a glowworm worship the big moon.
"But you'll get married, dear," said Ethel, "of course you'll get married."
Penelope was pensive.
"There are other things than marriage," said Penelope.
"Oh, are there?" sighed Ethel. She did not think so, for she was in love. Penelope loved theories best.
"Which of them will you marry?" asked Ethel.
"Which what?"
"Silly, them," said Ethel. "What the duchess calls your 'horde.'"
"I don't know," replied Penelope. "I'm like Diogenes, and I'm looking for an honest man."
"Oh, honesty,—yes, of course, I know what you mean. But there are plenty of them, Pen dear.