"Necessity, I think. I feel weaker than formerly. I believe I should have more to do."
"Admirable! She feels weak, and therefore she should be set to hard labour—'clair comme le jour'—as Moore—confound Moore! You shall go to Cliff-bridge; and there are two guineas to buy a new frock. Come, Cary, never fear; we'll find balm in Gilead."
"Uncle, I wish you were less generous, and more"
"More what?"
Sympathizing was the word on Caroline's lips, but it was not uttered: she checked herself in time: her uncle would indeed have laughed if that namby-pamby word had escaped her. Finding her silent, he said,—
"The fact is, you don't know precisely what you want."
"Only to be a governess."
"Pooh! mere nonsense! I'll not hear of governessing. Don't mention it again. It is rather too feminine a fancy. I have finished breakfast, ring the bell: put all crotchets out of your head and run away and amuse yourself."
"What with? My doll?" asked Caroline to herself as she quitted the room.
