I have fallen in love with you; and why shouldn't I have you for my--" She paused, hesitating: what was it she was about to propose to the little lady standing before her?
She had been going to say _maid_: what was it that checked her?
The feeling was to herself shapeless and nameless; but, however some of my readers may smile at the notion of a girl who served behind a counter being a lady, and however ready Hesper Mortimer would have been to join them, it was yet a vague sense of the fact that was now embarrassing her, for she was not half lady enough to deal with it.

In very truth, Mary Marston was already immeasurably more of a lady than Hesper Mortimer was ever likely to be in this world.
What was the stateliness and pride of the one compared to the fact that the other would have died in the workhouse or the street rather than let a man she did not love embrace her--yes, if all her ancestors in hell had required the sacrifice! To be a martyr to a lie is but false ladyhood.

She only is a lady who witnesses to the truth, come of it what may.
"-- For my--my companion, or something of the sort," concluded Hesper; "and then I should be sure of being always dressed to my mind." "That _would_ be nice!" responded Mary, thinking only of the kindness in the speech.
"Would you really like it ?" asked Hesper, in her turn pleased.
"I should like it very much," replied Mary, not imagining the proposal had in it a shadow of seriousness.

"I wish it were possible." "Why not, then?
Why shouldn't it be possible?
I don't suppose you would mind using your needle a little ?" "Not in the least," answered Mary, amused.

"Only what would they do in the shop without me ?" "They could get somebody else, couldn't they ?" "Hardly, to take my place.