e you asked me. But I don't see why I
should, else. It bores me to death, she is so slow. She has no ear for
music, or language, or anything else. It would be much better for her
to be ignorant, mamma: it is her _role_, she would do it well."

"That is a hard thing to say of your poor sister, Gwendolen, who is so
good to you, and waits on you hand and foot."

"I don't see why it is hard to call things by their right names, and
put them in their proper places. The hardship is for me to have to
waste my time on her. Now let me fasten up your hair, mamma."

"We must make haste; your uncle and aunt will be here soon. For
heaven's sake, don't be scornful to _them_, my dear child! or to your
cousin Anna, whom you will always be going out with. Do promise me,
Gwendolen. You know, you can't expect Anna to be equal to you."

"I don't want her to be equal," said Gwendolen, with a toss of her head
and a smile, and the discussion ended there.

When Mr. and Mrs. Gascoigne and their daughter came, Gwendolen, far
from being scornful, behaved as prettily as possible to them. She was
introducing herself anew to relatives who had not seen her since the
comparatively unfinished age of sixteen, and she was anxious--no, not
anxious, but resolved that they should admire her.

Mrs. Gascoigne bore a family likeness to her sister. But she was darker
and slighter, her face was unworn by grief, her movements were less
languid, her expression more alert and critical as that of a rector's
wife bound to exert a beneficent authority. Their closest resemblance
lay in a non-resistant disposition, inclined to imitation and
obedience; but this, owing to the difference in their circumstances,
had led them to very different issues. The younger sister had been
indiscreet, or at least unfortunate in her marriages; the elder
believed herself the most enviable of wives, and her pliancy had ended
in her sometimes taking shapes of surprising definiteness. Many of her
opinions, such as those on church government and the character of
Archbishop Laud, seemed too decided under every alteration to have been
arrived at otherwise than by a wifely receptiveness. And there was much
to encourage trust in her husband's authority. He had some agreeable
virtues, some striking advantages, and the failings that were imputed
to him all leaned toward the side of success.

One of his advantages was a fine person, which perhaps was even more
impressive at fifty-seven than i