"You live too much alone, I fear," the kind chaperon remonstrates. "It is not well for the young to live so quiet and isolated a life as you are doing, my dear. You should accept the invitations of the county families, and entertain them in return."
"I am in mourning," Lady Vera objects, wearily.
"But I do not mean for you to be very gay, my dear Lady Vera. If you would even invite some young lady of your own age to come and visit you it would be so much livelier for you. There is Miss Montgomery, for instance. She is at Sir William Spencer's. I dare say she would come if you invited her."
"I detest Miss Montgomery," Lady Vera replies, with unusual pettishness.
"Someone else, then; anyone whom you could like," Mrs. Vance suggests.
"There is no one," Lady Vera answers. "I expect Lady Clive soon. We shall have a little gaiety then. I will have no one else before that."
"I do not think you are well, Lady Vera. You have lost your color, you are growing thin, your eyes look large in your face. Will you not consult a physician?" Mrs. Vance goes on, resolutely.
"No; for I am perfectly well," Lady Vera answers, impatiently. "Pray do not take up idle fancies about me, Mrs. Vance."
So the good lady, sighing, desists, and Countess Fairvale "gaes her ain gait."