Dorothy herself had apparently no desire to set right this erroneous opinion which the neighborhood entertained respecting her.

She did not seem to care whether she was supposed to be thirty, or forty, or fifty.

Of youth, as a means of getting lovers, she entertained a profound contempt.

That no lover would ever come she was assured, and would not at all have known what to do with one had he come.

The only man for whom she had ever felt the slightest regard was her father.