'What makes you dream of such a thing ?' 'From the interest you take in the progress of my acquaintance with the lady, and the changes of my opinion concerning her, I thought you might be jealous.' He laughed again.

'Jealous! no.

But I thought you were going to marry Eliza Millward.' 'You thought wrong, then; I am not going to marry either one or the other--that I know of--' 'Then I think you'd better let them alone.' 'Are you going to marry Jane Wilson ?' He coloured, and played with the mane again, but answered--'No, I think not.' 'Then you had better let her alone.' 'She won't let me alone,' he might have said; but he only looked silly and said nothing for the space of half a minute, and then made another attempt to turn the conversation; and this time I let it pass; for he had borne enough: another word on the subject would have been like the last atom that breaks the camel's back.
I was too late for tea; but my mother had kindly kept the teapot and muffin warm upon the hobs, and, though she scolded me a little, readily admitted my excuses; and when I complained of the flavour of the overdrawn tea, she poured the remainder into the slop-basin, and bade Rose put some fresh into the pot, and reboil the kettle, which offices were performed with great commotion, and certain remarkable comments.
'Well!--if it had been me now, I should have had no tea at all--if it had been Fergus, even, he would have to put up with such as there was, and been told to be thankful, for it was far too good for him; but you--we can't do too much for you.

It's always so--if there's anything particularly nice at table, mamma winks and nods at me to abstain from it, and if I don't attend to that, she whispers, "Don't eat so much of that, Rose; Gilbert will like it for his supper."-- I'm nothing at all.
In the parlour, it's "Come, Rose, put away your things, and let's have the room nice and tidy against they come in; and keep up a good fire; Gilbert likes a cheerful fire." In the kitchen--"Make that pie a large one, Rose; I daresay the boys'll be hungry; and don't put so much pepper in, they'll not like it, I'm sure"-- or, "Rose, don't put so many spices in the pudding, Gilbert likes it plain,"-- or, "Mind you put plenty of currants in the cake, Fergus liked plenty." If I say, "Well, mamma, I don't," I'm told I ought not to think of myself.

"You know, Rose, in all household matters, we have only two things to consider, first, what's proper to be done; and, secondly, what's most agreeable to the gentlemen of the house--anything will do for the ladies."' 'And very good doctrine too,' said my mother.