"Yes," she said.
"They're very simple, nice girls," pursued Corey. "I think you'll like the elder, when you come to know her."
When you come to know her. The words implied an expectation that the two families were to be better acquainted.
"Then she is more intellectual than her sister?" Mrs. Corey ventured.
"Intellectual?" repeated her son. "No; that isn't the word, quite. Though she certainly has more mind."
"The younger seemed very sensible."
"Oh, sensible, yes. And as practical as she's pretty. She can do all sorts of things, and likes to be doing them. Don't you think she's an extraordinary beauty?"
"Yes--yes, she is," said Mrs. Corey, at some cost.
"She's good, too," said Corey, "and perfectly innocent and transparent. I think you will like her the better the more you know her."
"I thought her very nice from the beginning," said the mother heroically; and then nature asserted itself in her. "But I should be afraid that she might perhaps be a little bit tiresome at last; her range of ideas seemed so extremely limited."