"But you should be happy yourself," said Gwendolen, still discontentedly, though going to help her mamma with caressing touches. "Can nobody be happy after they are quite young? You have made me feel sometimes as if nothing were of any use. With the girls so troublesome, and Jocosa so dreadfully wooden and ugly, and everything make-shift about us, and you looking so dull--what was the use of my being anything? But now you _might_ be happy."
"So I shall, dear," said Mrs. Davilow, patting the cheek that was bending near her.
"Yes, but really. Not with a sort of make-believe," said Gwendolen, with resolute perseverance. "See what a hand and arm!--much more beautiful than mine. Any one can see you were altogether more beautiful."

 going to help her mamma undress with caressing touches, "you should be happy. Can nobody be happy after they are quite young? You have made me feel sometimes as if nothing were of any use. But now you might be happy."
"So I shall, dear," said Mrs. Davilow, patting her cheek.
"Yes, but really. Not with a sort of make-believe," said Gwendolen resolutely. "See your hand and arm!- much more beautiful than mine. Anyone can see you were more beautiful."
