Had any one accused her of being afraid to separate herself from London society, she would have declared that she went very little into society and disliked that little.

Had it been whispered to her that she loved the neighbourhood of the shops, she would have scorned the whisperer.

Had it been suggested that the continued rattle of the big city was necessary to her happiness, she would have declared that she and her father had picked out for their residence the quietest street in London because she could not bear noise;--and yet she told herself that she feared to be taken into the desolate calmness of Cambridgeshire.
When she did contrive to find any answer to that question as to what she should do with her life,--or rather what she would wish to do with it if she were a free agent, it was generally of a political nature.

She was not so far advanced as to think that women should be lawyers and doctors, or to wish that she might have the privilege of the franchise for herself; but she had undoubtedly a hankering after some second-hand political manoeuvering.

She would have liked, I think, to have been the wife of the leader of a Radical opposition, in the time when such men were put into prison, and to have kept up for him his seditious correspondence while he lay in the Tower.