"I suppose your quiet life gives you much time for reading?"

"I can't say that I enjoy father and mother's books."

"I doubt whether I would myself, but you have your own choice?"

"I read a story now and then; but time slips away; and I don't do much
reading. We country girls make our own clothes, and you have no idea
how much time it takes."

"Will you forgive me if I say that I think you make yours very
prettily?"

Again she looked decidedly pleased; and, as if to reward me, she
fastened the rose on her bosom. "If she would only keep still," I
thought, "and I could simply look at her as at a draped statue, I
could endure another half-hour; but every word she speaks is like the
note of that catbird which broke the spell of harmony this morning. I
have not yet seen a trace of ideality in her mind. Not a lovable trait
have I discovered beyond her remarkable beauty, which mocks one with
its broken promise. What is the controlling yet perverse principle of
her life which makes her seem an alien in her own home? I am glad she
does not use the plain language to me, since by nature she is not a
Friend."

Miss Yocomb interrupted my thoughts by saying:

"I thought my dress would be much too simple and country-like for your
taste. I can see myself that Emily Warren's dress has more style."