"Of course I am anxious. What other chance have I, mamma? And, oh dear, I am so tired of it! Pleasure, indeed! Papa talks of pleasure. If papa had to work half as hard as I do, I wonder what he'd think of it. I suppose I must do it. I know it will make me so ill that I shall almost die under it. Horrid, horrid people! And papa to propose it, who has always been so proud of everything,--who used to think so much of being with the right set."

"Of course I am. What other chance have I? And I am so tired of it! Papa does not have to work half as hard as I do. I suppose I must do it. I know it will make me ill. Horrid, horrid people! And papa has always been so proud of being with the right set."
