“How long do you want to stay here, Laura?” said the mother, in that wheezing sort of voice which belongs to fat, pursy old ladies when over-fatigued.
“That will depend upon circumstances,” was the short and rather crusty reply.
“Do you know they charge twelve dollars a week, and every bath is an extra expense?”
“What of that? We must risk something in all speculations, and mine is a pretty safe venture.”
“I wish we had left Ellen Grey at home.”
“I don’t agree with you; we owe her some return for staying nearly three months with her at Norwood, and I cannot bear to be under an obligation to such mighty good sort of people, for they never forget it.”
“But her board will be expensive, and I do not see why it would not have been as well to invite her to our house in the winter.”
“You don’t seem to understand my plans, Mamma. Ellen Grey is pretty, and modest, and sentimental, and all that; she is just the kind of person to be very attractive to gentlemen when seen in domestic life, but she is too timid to appear well in a place like this. She will scarcely dare to raise her eyes in such a crowd, and therefore there can be no rivalry between us. Besides, she has a great deal of taste, and her assistance at my toilet enables me to dispense with a dressing maid.”
“I cannot see much force in your argument.”
“Perhaps not; what would you say if I tell you I want her as a foil?”