“Well,” said Marion, “I will just call her in, for she is in the hall, and she will tell you herself: for I have said my say; and I hope you will think it over, and come to a better judgment, papa.”
All this time Evelyn had been sitting silent by, supporting her head on her hand. But, truth to tell, it was not the self-denial of a supporter leaving her principal to fight for himself, but simple incompetence which silenced Evelyn. With her head bent down, she had been doing her best to master and conceal the laughter which was almost too much for her. Mrs. Rowland was for once on Marion’s side; and the composure of the little girl’s attack, and its radical character, startled the elder woman. When Rowland sat down again by her side, with that snort of dissipating and modified fury, she put her hand upon his arm, and raised her face to him for a moment. And the good man was more bewildered than ever to see the fun that was dancing in his wife’s eyes.
“James!” said Evelyn, her laugh bursting forth in spite of her; “she had you there.”
“The little witch!” cried the bewildered man. He began to laugh too, though he could scarcely have told why. And then Rowland raised his head to find quite a different figure standing in front of him in the same position which Marion had occupied a moment before, but half as tall again as Marion, with head held high, and a slim, long hand leant upon his table. She stood like Portia about to make her speech, a simile which, it need not be said, did not occur to Rowland, but to Evelyn by his side.
“You called me, Mr. Rowland,” Rosamond said.
“You are to tell him,” said Marion’s voice behind, “what you said about work, Rosamond: for I’m only his own daughter, and he will not listen to it from me.”
“You little cutty!” Rowland said again, under his breath.
“What did I say about work? it is the thing I wish for most,” said Rosamond. “As soon as ever I am of age I am going in for it. My father and people won’t let me now. I do not think they have any right to interfere, but they do. Mabel Leighton, who is my dearest friend, is going in for medicine; but I have no distinct turn, I am sorry to say. But we think that something is certain to turn up.”
“So you are wanting to work, are you, Miss Rosamond? If it had been your brother, it would have been more to the purpose: for women’s work is but poorly paid. I never heard yet of one that made a fortune by her own exertions,” Rowland said.
“A fortune?” said Rosamond. “No, we never thought of that. We thought we could live on very little, two girls together. And Mabel has something of her own, and we hoped that grandmamma, as she is all for work, might make me a small allowance if she saw that I was in earnest. Lodgings are not dear, if you don’t insist upon a fashionable quarter, and as we shouldn’t care for meat, or anything expensive in the way of living——”