A London Life; The Patagonia; The Liar; Mrs. Temperly
d say that to.'
'Oh, Lady Davenant,' Laura began again, but she only got as far as this; in a moment she had covered her face with her hands--she had burst into tears.
'Ah my dear, don't cry or I shall take back my invitation! It would never do if you were to larmoyer. If I have offended you by the way I have spoken of Selina I think you are too sensitive. We shouldn't feel more for people than they feel for themselves. She has no tears, I'm sure.'
'Oh, she has, she has!' cried the girl, sobbing with an odd effect as she put forth this pretension for her sister.
'Then she's worse than I thought. I don't mind them so much when they are merry but I hate them when they are sentimental.'
'She's so changed--so changed!' Laura Wing went on.
'Never, never, my dear: c'est de naissance.'
'You never knew my mother,' returned the girl; 'when I think of mother----' The words failed her while she sobbed.
'I daresay she was very nice,' said Lady Dave