'Henrietta!' She chose that name for the name of the person disturbing her; it fused best, she thought, with the new element she had been compelled to take into her system, to absorb it if she could.
'You're not scheming to have them serve as army hospital nurses, my dear ?' 'No, Chillon.' 'You can't explain it, I suppose ?' 'A sister could go too, when you go to war, Chillon.' A sister could go, if it were permitted by the authorities, and be near her brother to nurse him in case of wounds; others would be unable to claim the privilege.

That was her meaning, involved with the hazy project of earning an independence; but she could not explain it, and Chillon set her down for one of the inexplicable sex, which the simple adventurous girl had not previously seemed to be.
She was inwardly warned of having talked foolishly, and she held her tongue.

Her humble and modest jealousy, scarce deserving the title, passed with a sigh or two.

It was her first taste of life in the world.
A fit of heavy-mindedness ensued, that heightened the contrast her recent mood had bequeathed, between herself, ignorant as she was, and those ladies.

Their names, Livia and Henrietta, soared above her and sang the music of the splendid spheres.