"No; no, I don't. Marys nowadays are practical and prosaic, any way. I don't mean to say that you are, except sometimes, perhaps. I think you must be very like what mamma was at your age, but I fancy you are cleverer and--" "And what?" "And wiser--at least, in some ways. You would not be satisfied to marry just such a person as my father must have been; you would want some one more energetic and stronger altogether." "Perhaps," said Mary. "But I do not think we need speculate about that sort of thing for me, Lilias; there's plenty of time to think what sort of a person I would marry, if ever I do, which very likely I won't." "Don't speak like Mrs Gamp, and please don't be so sensible, Mary. If you only would be silly sometimes, you would be perfect--quite perfect," said Lilias. Mary smiled. "But indeed," continued Lilias, "I am not at all sure that it _is_ sensible to look at things as you do. If none of us marry, or do anything for ourselves, it will come to be rather hard upon papa in a few years." "But why suppose none of us will marry?" said Mary. "It is unlikely, to say the least, that we shall _all_ be old maids." "I don't know that it is," replied Lilias, seriously. "I am three-and-twenty, remember, and you not two years younger, and things go on just the same year after year; we never make a new acquaintance or go anywhere." "Except to the Brocklehurst ball," put in Mary. "Oh, that Brocklehurst ball," said Lilias, laughing. "Many and many a time, when it comes round again, I have been tempted to give up going, just that I might be able to say I had not been, when every one shakes it at me reproachfully if ever I grumble. What good is the Brocklehurst ball, Mary? It is so crowded, and the people come all in great parties; we never get to know any one. I suppose our beauty is not of that striking order to shine out through country made dresses, and crowds of finer people! I enjoy it, of course--even dancing with Frank Bury is better than not dancing at all." "Or with one of Mr Greville's curates," said Mary, mischievously. "Don't," said Lilias. "I cannot bear the subject. I told you some time ago--and I shall always say so--the bane of our life has been curates. Because papa is a poor clergyman, with lots of daughters, every one seems to think there can be, and should be, nothing before us but curates. It almost makes me dislike papa, to think he ever was one!" "Lilias," said Mary, suddenly, "we shall be late. The school-children have gone in, and there are the Smithson girls coming up the lane, and they are always late. Do come!"