Young Dagworthy won't seem of much account to her, I fancy.' 'But he has had a good education, hasn't he ?' 'Pretty good, I suppose.

He confessed to us, though, that he couldn't pronounce French words.' 'It's quite certain,' said Mrs.Hood, 'he wouldn't have invited you in if you had been alone.' 'Certain enough,' was the reply, in a tone wholly disinterested.

'But it must have been just a fancy, a whim.

Things of that kind don't happen nowadays.' 'Not to us, at all events,' murmured the other dejectedly.
'Well, there must come what will,' she added, leaning her head back once more, and losing interest in the subject.

'I hope nothing and expect nothing.' Alas, these two sitting together in the dull little room, speaking in disjointed phrases of despondency, exchanging no look, no word of mutual kindness, had they not once loved each other, with the love of youth and hope?
Had it not once been enough to sit through long evenings and catch with eagerness each other's lightest word?
Time had robbed them of youth, and the injustice of the world's order had starved love to less than a shadow of itself, to a more habit of common suffering.