But there was something else; and in his befogged mental state the comparison eluded him. Miss Stanley had determined from the outset to have the warmest affection for her youngest niece and to be a second mother in her life—a second and a better one; but she had found much to battle with, and there was much in herself that Ann Veronica failed to understand. That is not reasonable. Even if he were an old friend, you couldn't afford to do it. “If you think it worth while,” she answered doubtfully. You don’t know. ‘Come,’ she called. He won’t have menservants inside the house, and his collection of carriages is only fit for a museum—where most of his friends ought to be, by-the-bye. Can I be of any assistance? I can assure you that it would give me very much pleasure. This is the first act. “And now,” she said, splintering the surviving piece of coal into indignant flame-spurting fragments with one dexterous blow, “what am I to do? “I’m in a hole!—mess is a better word, expresses it better.
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