"Oh, I don't mean that you're in love with him--wish you were! But you're
roping him in--just like Lord Tatham. And as he's the latest, he's the
most--well, exciting!"
Susan with her chin in her hands, and her dusky countenance very much
alive, seemed to be playing her sister with cautious mockery--feeling her
way.
"Dear Susy--I don't know why you're so unkind--and unjust," said Lydia,
after a moment, in the tone of one wounded.
"How am I unkind? You're the practical one of us three. You run us and
take care of us. We know we're stupids compared to you. But really mamma
and I stand aghast at the way in which you manage your love affairs!"
"My love affairs!" cried Lydia, "but I haven't got any!"
"Do you mean to say that Lord Tatham is not in love with you?" said Susan
severely--"that he wouldn't marry you to-morrow if you'd let him?"
Lydia flushed, but her look was neither resentful nor repentant.
"Why should we put it in that way?" she said, ardently. "Isn't it
possible to look at men in some other light than as possible husbands?
Haven't they got hearts and minds--don't they think and feel--just like
us?"
"Oh, no, not like us," said Susan hastily--"never."
Lydia smiled.
"Well, enough like us, anyway. Do you ever think, Susy!" she seized her
sister's wrist and looked her in the eyes--"that there are a million more
women than men in this country? It is evident we can't all be married.
Well, then, I withdraw from the competition! It's demoralizing to women;
and it's worse for men.
Pages:
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285