"Then don't young women tell ?" "Because, you mean, it's just what they're supposed to do ?" She looked at him, flushed again now; with which, after another hesitation, "Do young men tell ?" she asked.
He gave a short laugh.

"How do I know, my dear, what young men do ?" "Then how do _I_ know, father, what vulgar girls do ?" "I see--I see," he quickly returned.
But she spoke the next moment as if she might, odiously, have been sharp.

"What happens at least is that where there's a great deal of pride there's a great deal of silence.

I don't know, I admit, what _I_ should do if I were lonely and sore--for what sorrow, to speak of, have I ever had in my life?
I don't know even if I'm proud--it seems to me the question has never come up for me." "Oh, I guess you're proud, Mag," her father cheerfully interposed.

"I mean I guess you're proud enough." "Well then, I hope I'm humble enough too.