"What reason have you to think that?" she said, with a wondering look in her beautiful blue eyes.
"Every reason in the world."
"And I have so often envied you, Amey Hampden, and thought you a fortunate and happy girl beside a wretch like me."
"Alice!" I broke in, in consternation "how can you talk like this? You, the spoilt darling of Fortune herself, you, the cynosure of so many eyes, the possessor of untold worldly comfort and happiness."
"Go on, go on, I like that," she interrupted ironically.
"Well, you know you are," I added emphatically.
"A wretch! yes, without a doubt" she answered firmly. "I am rich in that which can buy everything but peace of mind and contentment of heart. I am fortunate enough to escape that experience which gives a flavor and a charm to existence. I am the cynosure of eyes that are content with surface glitter only, and the possessor of comforts and happiness that have made my life the empty, blighted thing it is."
She paused while the sound of her altered voice vibrated in the room, then laughed a merry, artful little laugh and rising languidly to her feet, added:
"Oh, dear! oh dear! what funny people we are!"
Before any more was said upon this tender subject we went down to lunch, laughing and chatting as gaily as though we were the freest-hearted creatures in existence.