world better, and I—I am just a lady, fussing, primping, peering into a looking-glass! I should like to do something, but they think I am too good—too holy."
"But it is a hard business—the labors and quarrels of the great world," I suggested.
"Well—it is God's business," she continued. "And am I not one of his children, and 'wist ye not that I must be about my Father's business?' It was not too good for the man who said that."
"But what would you do?"
"I do not know. I suppose I can do nothing because—alas! because my father has bought my obedience with a million francs. Do you not see that I am in bondage?"
"Be patient; the life of a rich demoiselle is not barren of opportunity."
"To be gay—oh! one might as well be a peacock; to say pretty things, one might better be a well-trained parrot; to grace the court or the salon, I had as soon be a statue in the corner—it has more comfort, more security; to be admired, to hear fine compliments—well, you know that is the part of a pet poodle. I
