Her tone was so gravely in earnest that her mother was staggered. Dinah shouted.
Mrs. Wadsworth went on in a voice that was gathering indignation: “You may laugh now; you will not always laugh. ‘He that will not when he may, when he will he shall have nay.’ Mrs. Sherwood told me yesterday that she hoped to have Nan Gerard back here for good, and Mary looked as if it were all settled. Mr. Towne did not do much last winter, Mary said, beside run around with Naughty Nan. I’m hearing all the time of somebody being married or engaged, and you are doing nothing but shilly-shally over some book or trotting around after poor folks with Miss Jewett.”
“She will find a prince in a hovel some day,” said Dinah. “He will be struck with her attitude as she is choking some bed-ridden woman with beef-tea and fall down on his knees and propose on the spot. ‘Feed me, seraph,’ he will cry.”
“He wouldn’t talk grammar, or he couldn’t spell or read Greek, and she will turn away,” laughed Mrs. Wadsworth. “Tessa, you are none of my bringing up.”
“That is true,” replied Tessa, the sorrowfulness of the tone softening its curtness.
“You always did care for something in a book more than for what I said! You never do any thing to please people; and yet, somehow, somebody always is running after you. I wish that you could go out into the world and get a little character; you are no more capable of self-denial and heroism than an infant baby; for getting along in the world and making a good match, I would rather have Sue Greyson’s skin—”
“Her father understands anatomy, perhaps you can get it, mother.”
“She knows how to look out for number one. Her children will be settled in life before Tessa is engaged. You needn’t laugh, Dine, it’s her birthday, and I’m only doing a mother’s duty to her.”
Tessa’s eyes laughed although her lips were still. Her sense of humor helped her to bear many things in her life.
“You have never had a trial in your life, Tessa, and here you are old enough to be a wife and mother!”