 please, Cousin Sophy," said the girl, simply. She had not been
thinking any thoughts of "the gentlemen" which could make her blush, but
somehow her cousin's tone jarred upon her, and she turned round to her
packing. The room was littered with the things which she was putting
into her box, that box which had grown a great deal too small now,
though it was quite roomy enough when Ursula left home.

"Ursula, I think you are a good little thing on the whole--"

"Oh, Cousin Sophy, forgive me! No, I am not good."

"Forgive you! for what? Yes, you are on the whole a good little thing;
not a saint, like Anne; but then you have perhaps more to try your
temper. We were always very obedient to her, though we worried her, and
papa always believed in her with all his heart. Perhaps you have more to
put up with. But, my dear, think of poor Mrs. Copperhead, for example--"

"Why do you always call her poor Mrs. Copperhead? she is very rich. She
can make other people happy when she pleases. She has a beautiful house,
and everything--"

"And a bear, a brute of a husband."

"Ah! Does she mind very much?" asked Ursula, with composure. This
drawback seemed to her insignificant, in comparison with Mrs.
Copperhead's greatness. It was only Sophy's laugh that brought her to
herself. She said with some haste, putting in her dresses, with her back
turned, "I do not mean to say anything silly. When people are as old as
she is, do they mind? It cannot matter so much what happens when you are
old."

"Why? but never mind, the theory is as good as many others," said Sophy.
"You would not mind then marrying a man like that, to have everything
that your heart could desire?"

"Cousin Sophy, I am not going to--marry any one," said Ursula, loftily,
carrying her head erect. "I hope I am not like that, thinking of such
things. I am very, very sorry that you should have such an opinion of
me, after living together ten days."

She turned away with all the forlorn pride of injury, and there were
tears in her voice. Sophy, who dared not laugh in reply, t