There was no pure and holy influence of a higher and nobler life, diffused from the beautiful being. She was no angel of light. She was merely, to all appearance, a very fine, fashionable girl.
And Clementina, in her gentleness and softness, was little more. The good seed which Matty had sown, had fructified at first, but the briars and thorns were gathering fast around it. The pleasures of life were choking it up. It was in danger of being altogether lost.
Matty had long been gone. She had married a respectable tradesman, and was in a flourishing, though small, way of business. She would have been altogether forgotten long ago, only that she would not suffer this. She found herself still welcomed when she did come; for both the girls loved her, and she perfectly adored them. So she came, bringing her little offerings, from time to time—little matters such as she dealt in, in her shop—humble, but, for her sake, welcome. These two girls had both hearts. Where they got them I don't know.
CHAPTER THE FIFTH.
"Oh, Ella! Ella!—what's the use of your turning your head from me?—Why, I can see you are coloring crimson—as if I had no eyes! Oh! he is charming, is not he?"
"How tiresome you can be, Clementina! I am sure I don't care. No, not.... Besides, he's your flirt, not mine."
"Is he? I wish he were! But I know better. He loves you, Ella; and what's more, you love him. And if you don't know it—which perhaps you don't—I do, and he does."
"He does!—I like that!—he does!—Upon my word! I like him, and he knows it! I do no such thing."
"Take care what you say. Walls have ears."
"Pooh!—nonsense! And if they have, I tell you I don't care."