“I shall go,” she said, abruptly, “that is to say,” she added, colouring a little in her turn, “I should like to go, if I can.”
“Dear me,” said her father, “how the tables are turned! It used to be always Lilias who was eager to go, and Mary to stay at home.”
“But there is no objection to Mary’s going, if she likes,” interposed Mrs Western, hastily.
“Objection, of course not. There is no objection to their both going that I can see,” said Mr Western.
“Well, we’ll talk about it afterwards,” said Mrs Western. “Girls, you had better go to the school-room. We are later than usual this morning.”
They all rose, and Lilias was thankful to get away; but as Mary and she left the room together, they overheard a remark of their father to the effect that Lilias was not looking well, had not her mother observed it?
“I dare say she would be the better for a thorough change,” replied Mrs Western. “It is so long since she left home.”
“Oh, yes!” said her father, with a sigh. “They would all enjoy a change, and no one needs it more than yourself, Margaret. It makes me very anxious when I think about these girls sometimes.”
“But, at the worst, they are far better off in every other way than I was at their age,” said Mrs Western, “and see how happy I have been.”
“Ideas of happiness differ so,” said her husband. “I fear a quiet life in a country parsonage on limited means would hardly satisfy Lilias. As to Mary, I somehow feel less anxiety. She takes things so placidly.”