More and more she saw him selfish and mean, weak-willed, narrow-minded, and hard-hearted; and aimless, with all his talent.

She admired his talent in proportion as she learned more of artists, and perceived how uncommon it was; but she said to herself that if she were going to devote herself to art, she would do it at first-hand.

She was perfectly serene and happy in her final rejection of Beaton; he had worn out not only her fancy, but her sympathy, too.
This was what her mother would not believe when Alma reported the interview to her; she would not believe it was the last time they should meet; death itself can hardly convince us that it is the last time of anything, of everything between ourselves and the dead.

"Well, Alma," she said, "I hope you'll never regret what you've done." "You may be sure I shall not regret it.

If ever I'm low-spirited about anything, I'll think of giving Mr.Beaton his freedom, and that will cheer me up." "And don't you expect to get married?
Do you intend to be an old maid ?" demanded her mother, in the bonds of the superstition women have so long been under to the effect that every woman must wish to get married, if for no other purpose than to avoid being an old maid.
"Well, mamma," said Alma, "I intend being a young one for a few years yet; and then I'll see.