"What is wrong, Gracie?" asked Margaret anxiously; "what have I done? Are you vexed with me, dear?"
"Vexed with you! oh, dear no! but you really are very dull, Margaret. You make life here difficult for me."
"I make life more difficult for you!" And Margaret coloured, partly from a just sense of Grace's unfairness, and partly because she was indignant as well as hurt.
"How can I put that Mrs. Dorriman in her place, when my sister, my own sister, makes such a fuss about her?"
"It never occurred to me that she was a person you would think of putting in her place."
"That is just what I complain of."
"She seems to me so gentle and so timid. I think it will be more difficult for her to take up a position than you think. I cannot fancy her ever saying anything to you you may not like."
"If she does, I will soon let her know my opinion about her; but you heard what Mr. Sandford said, and I mistrust these quiet women. I feel as though she might be as obstinate as possible. Did you notice, her upper lip?"
"You are so much cleverer than I am, darling, and so much quicker. No; I only saw that she felt coming here very much, she looked ready to cry."
"Well, Margaret, if you think yourself wiser than I am, I give it up. As I said before—making a fuss about her at the very outset makes my part very much more difficult; and after all your violent professions it seems hard that on the very first opportunity you fail me, and take up a line of your own."