"Dear Constance!" said Fleda, half laughing, "why do you talk so?"
"Constance, behave yourself," said her mother.
"Mamma!" said the young lady,--"I am actuated by a benevolent desire to effect a diversion of Miss Ringgan's mind from its gloomy meditations, by presenting to her some more real subjects of distress."
"I wonder if you ever looked at such a thing," said Fleda.
"What 'such a thing'?"
"As a real subject of distress."
"Yes--I have one incessantly before me in your serious countenance. Why in the world, Fleda, don't you look like other people?"
"I suppose, because I don't feel like them."
"And why don't you? I am sure you ought to be as happy as most people."
"I think I am a great deal happier," said Fleda.