Agnes. Yes, but you were never married.
Lucy. No, dear.
Agnes. That is what I want to——Why weren't you married? Oh, I know I have no business to ask such a question: it is fearfully rude I know, but I have wondered so often. You are lovely now, and you must have been beautiful when you were a girl.
Lucy. No, I wasn't—I was barely pretty.
Agnes. I can't believe that.
Lucy. And I am not going to accept your description of me now as a true one; although I confess I am vain enough—even in my present old age—to look in the glass occasionally, and say to myself: “You are better-looking now than you ever were.”
Agnes. Well, at all events you were always an angel.
Lucy. And men don't like angels; besides—I was poor.
Agnes. You were not poor when you got Aunt Emily's money.
Lucy. No, but then it was too——I mean I then had no wish to marry.