"I was not thinking of pleasant living. But—I do not want my life to be like those horses running to-day," said Dolly smiling; "for nothing; of no use."
"Don't you think a woman is of use and fills her place, my dear, who looks after her household and attends to her family, and does her duty by society?"
"Yes," said Dolly hesitating,—"but that is not enough." The girl was thinking of her own mother at the moment.
"Not enough? Why, yes, it is enough. That is a woman's place and business. What else would you do?"
Dolly was in some embarrassment now. She must answer, for Mrs. St. Leger was waiting for it; but her answer could not be understood. Her eye took in again the rich appliances for present enjoyment which filled the room, above, below, and around her; and then she said, her eye coming back—
"I would like my life to be good for something that would not pass away."
"Not pass away? Why, everything passes away, my child" (and there came a sigh here),—"in time. The thing is to make the best of them while we have them."
Is that all? thought Dolly, as she noticed the untested, rather sad look of her hostess's face; and she wished she could say more, but she dared not. Then young Mr. St. Leger bent forward, and inquired what she could be thinking of that would not pass away? His mother saw the look with which his blue eyes sought the face of the little stranger; and turned away with another sigh, born half of sympathy with her boy's feeling and half of jealousy against the subject of it. Dolly saw the look too, but did not comprehend it. She simply wondered why these people put her through the catechism so?
"What could you be thinking of?" St. Leger repeated, sliding into the seat his mother had quitted.
"Don't you know anything that will last?" Dolly retorted.