If only this misery respecting her sister could be set right! "And you, you yourself," said he, "do you mean that there is nothing you want in leaving London ?" "Not much, indeed." "It sometimes seemed to me that that kind of life was,--was very pleasant to you." "What kind of life, Mr.Stanbury ?" "The life that you were living,--going out, being admired, and having the rich and dainty all around you." "I don't dislike people because they are rich," she said.
"No; nor do I; and I despise those who affect to dislike them.

But all cannot be rich." "Nor all dainty, as you choose to call them." "But they who have once been dainty,--as I call them,--never like to divest themselves of their daintiness.

You have been one of the dainty, Miss Rowley." "Have I ?" "Certainly; I doubt whether you would be happy if you thought that your daintiness had departed from you." "I hope, Mr.Stanbury, that nothing nice and pleasant has departed from me.

If I have ever been dainty, dainty I hope I may remain.

I will never, at any rate, give it up of my own accord." Why she said this, she could never explain to herself.