-if I
didn't, but I should from her son--all about her age. And she should
hear me say, Amy: affectionately, quite dutifully and affectionately:
how well she looked, considering her time of life. I could make her seem
older at once, by being myself so much younger. I may not be as handsome
as she is; I am not a fair judge of that question, I suppose; but I know
I am handsome enough to be a thorn in her side. And I would be!'
'My dear sister, would you condemn yourself to an unhappy life for
this?'
'It wouldn't be an unhappy life, Amy. It would be the life I am fitted
for. Whether by disposition, or whether by circumstances, is no matter;
I am better fitted for such a life than for almost any other.'
There was something of a desolate tone in those words; but, with a
short proud laugh she took another walk, and after passing a great
looking-glass came to another stop.
'Figure! Figure, Amy! Well. The woman has a good figure. I will give her
her due, and not deny it. But is it so far beyond all others that it is
altogether unapproachable? Upon my word, I am not so sure of it. Give
some much younger woman the latitude as to dress that she has, being
married; and we would see about that, my dear!'
Something in the thought that was agreeable and flattering, brought her
back to her seat in a gayer temper. She took her sister's hands in hers,
and clapped all four hands above her head as she looked in her sister's
face laughing:
'And the dancer, Amy, that she has quite forgotten--the dancer who bore
no sort of resemblance to me, and of whom I never remind her, oh dear
no!--should dance through her life, and dance in her way, to such a tune
as would disturb her insolent placidity a little. Just a little, my dear
Amy, just a little!'
Meeting an earnest and imploring look in Amy's face, she brought the
four hands down, and laid only one on Amy's lips.
'Now, don't argue with me, child,' she said in a sterner way, 'because
it is of no use. I understand these subjects much better than you do. I
have not nearly made up my mind, but it may be. Now we have talked this
over comfortably, and may go to bed. You best and dearest little mouse,
Good night!' With those words Fanny weighed her Anchor, and--having
taken so much advice--left off being advised for that occasion.
Thenceforward, Amy observed Mr Sparkler's treatment by his enslaver,
with new reasons for attaching importance to all that passed between
them. There wer
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