With a more decided character, Alice's prepossessions would certainly have made life at the Manor anything but smooth; as it was, nothing ever occurred to make unpleasantness worth her while.

Besides, when not buried in her novels, she gave herself up to absentmindedness; Adela found conversation with her almost impossible, for Alice would answer a remark with a smiling 'Yes' or 'No,' and at once go off into dreamland, so that one hesitated to disturb her.
'What time is it ?' she inquired, when she became aware of Adela moving about the room.
'All but half-past one.' 'Really?
I suppose I must go and get ready for lunch.

What a pity we can't do without meals!' 'You should go out in the morning and get an appetite.

Really, you are getting very pale, Alice.

I'm sure you read far too much.' Adela had it on her lips to say 'too many novels,' but was afraid to administer a direct rebuke.
'Oh, I like reading, and I don't care a bit for going out.' 'What about your practising ?' Adela asked, with a playful shake of the head.
'Yes, I know it's very neglectful, but really it is such awful work.' 'And your French ?' 'I'll make a beginning to-morrow.