I think it lies at the root of all my ill health.

St.Clare means well, I am bound to believe; but men are constitutionally selfish and inconsiderate to woman.

That, at least, is my impression." Miss Ophelia, who had not a small share of the genuine New England caution, and a very particular horror of being drawn into family difficulties, now began to foresee something of this kind impending; so, composing her face into a grim neutrality, and drawing out of her pocket about a yard and a quarter of stocking, which she kept as a specific against what Dr.Watts asserts to be a personal habit of Satan when people have idle hands, she proceeded to knit most energetically, shutting her lips together in a way that said, as plain as words could, "You needn't try to make me speak.

I don't want anything to do with your affairs,"-- in fact, she looked about as sympathizing as a stone lion.
But Marie didn't care for that.

She had got somebody to talk to, and she felt it her duty to talk, and that was enough; and reinforcing herself by smelling again at her vinaigrette, she went on.
"You see, I brought my own property and servants into the connection, when I married St.Clare, and I am legally entitled to manage them my own way.