ng," said the mother, indignant, to which Phoebe nodded her head in
tranquil assent.

"That is neither here nor there," she said; "you can always tell him so,
and that will please Mr. Copperhead, if ever he comes to hear of it. He
thought at one time that I was too entertaining. One knows what that
means. I should like him to see how little I cared."

"But, my dear, Clarence Copperhead would be worth--a little attention.
He could give a girl--a very nice position," Mrs. Beecham faltered,
looking at her daughter between every word.

"I am not saying anything against Clarence Copperhead," said Phoebe, with
composure, "but I should like his dear papa to know how little I care,
and that you have refused him my address."

This was all she said on the subject. Phoebe was quite ready to allow
that Clarence was everything that her mother had said, and she had fully
worked out her own theory on marriage, which will probably be hereafter
expounded in these pages, so that she was not at all shocked by having
his advantages thus pointed out to her. But there was no hurry, she said
to herself. If it was not Clarence Copperhead, it would be some one
else, and why should she, at this early stage of her career, attempt to
precipitate the designs of Providence? She had plenty of time before
her, and was in no hurry for any change; and a genuine touch of nature
in her heart made her anxious for an opportunity of showing her
independence to that arrogant and offensive "leading member," who made
the life of the office-bearers in the Crescent a burden to them. If she
could only so drive him into a corner, that he should be obliged to come
to her in his despair, and beg her to accept his son's hand to save him
from going off in a galloping consumption, that would have been a
triumph after Phoebe's heart. To be sure this was a perfectly vain and
wildly romantic hope--it was the only bit of wild and girlish romance in
the bosom of a very well-educated, well-intentioned, and sensible young
woman. She had seen her parents put up with the arrogance of the
millionnaire for a long time without rebelling any more than they did;
but Mr. Copperhead had gone further than Phoebe could bear; and
thoroughly as she understood her own position, and all its interests,
this one vain fancy had found a footing in her mind. If she could but
humble him and make him sue to her. It was not likely, but for such a
triumph the sensible Phoebe would have done much.