“Oh, but there's no question—”
“If Miss Anderson—”
“Miss Anderson? Oh—oh yes!”
“If Miss Anderson for example,” pursued Mrs. Brinkley, “felt aggrieved with you. But really I've no right to enter into your affairs, Miss Pasmer.”
“Oh Yes, yes!—do! I asked you to,” the girl implored.
“I doubt if it will help matters for her to know that you regret anything; and if she shouldn't happen to have thought that you were unjust to her, it would make her uncomfortable for nothing.”
“Do you think so?” asked the girl, with a disappointment that betrayed itself in her voice and eyes.
“I never feel I myself competent to advise,” said Mrs. Brinkley. “I can criticise—anybody can—and I do, pretty freely; but advice is a more serious matter. Each of us must act from herself—from what she thinks is right.”
“Yes, I see. Thank you so much, Mrs. Brinkley.”
“After all, we have a right to do ourselves good, even when we pretend that it's good to others, if we don't do them any harm.”