“Small! Accustomed to our large rooms in the western world, it seems to us that we can hardly turn in these. I wish papa had managed better! This country is altogether frightfully dull. My sister tells us that unless things improve she shall take flight back to the States. She could do it,” added Verena; “she is twenty-one now, and her own mistress.”
I laughed. “Is she obliged to be her own mistress because she is twenty-one?”
“She is her own,” said Verena. “She has come into her share of the money mamma left us and can do as she pleases.”
“Oh, you were speaking in that sense.”
“Partly. Having money, she is not tied. She could go back to-morrow if she liked. We are not bound by your English notions.”
“It would not suit our notions at all. English girls cannot travel about alone.”
“That comes of their imperfect education. What harm do you suppose could anywhere befall well brought-up girls? We have been self-dependent from childhood; taught to be so. Coral could take care of herself the whole world over, and meet with consideration, wheresoever she might be.”
“What do you call her—Coral? It is a very pretty name.”
“And coral is her favourite ornament: it suits her pale skin. Her name is really Coralie, but I call her Coral—just as she calls me Vera. Do you like my name—Verena?”
“Very much indeed. Have you read ‘Sintram’?”