Beth shrugged her shoulders. The turn the conversation had taken was distasteful to her, and she would not pursue it.
There was a pause, then Clara observed sententiously:
"Innocence is not impossible, Geraldine. Surely Adelaide is innocent enough."
"I said innocence and intelligence were incompatible," Geraldine answered. "You don't call Adelaide intelligent, do you?"
"Who is Adelaide?" Beth asked.
"The daughter of a Roman Catholic peer," Geraldine replied. "She is eighteen, and her mind is absolutely undeveloped. We think she's in training for a convent, and that's why they don't let her learn much. Miss Ella Blackburne is a Roman Catholic, and so also is Adelaide's maid; They trot her round to all the observances of her Church regularly, and in the intervals she plays with the kitten. I don't know why she should have been sent here at all, for this is a regular forcing-house for the marriage market. Miss Blackburne expects all her girls to marry well, and they generally do. I should think, Miss Beth, she will be able to make something of you with those eyes!"
"Look at its neck and shoulders, too, and the way its head is set on them!" Clara exclaimed.
"Not to mention its hands and its complexion!" Geraldine supplemented. "But its voice alone—soft, gentle, and low—would get it into the peerage!"
Beth, unused to be appraised in this way, blushed and smiled, rather pleased, but confused.
"How many girls are there here?" she asked, to change the subject.