"I should be very sorry if I didn't think it had infinitely more in it than the face we have been speaking of. It is not so beautifully tinted, nor so regularly cut; but I like it better."
"I am afraid few people will agree with you," said her father dryly.
"There's one thing," said Elizabeth, — "I sha'n't know it if they don't. But then I see my face at a disadvantage, looking stupidly at itself in the glass — I hope it does better to other people."
"I didn't know you thought quite so much of yourself," said
Mr. Haye.
"I haven't told you the half," said Elizabeth, looking at him. "I am afraid I think more of myself than anybody else does, or ever will."
"If you do it so well for yourself, I'm afraid other people won't save you the trouble," said her father.
"I'm afraid you will not, by the tone in which you speak, father."
"What has set you against Rose?"
"Nothing in the world! I am not set against her. Nothing in the world but her own emptiness and impossibility of being anything like a companion to me."
"Elizabeth! —"