human
Morning Breakfast Table would be powerful for all things, brought new doubts to her mind. But she could not convince herself, and when at last she went to her bed her mind was still vacillating. The next morning she met Hetta at breakfast, and with assumed nonchalance asked a question about the man who was perhaps about to be her husband.
gpt
Do you like Mr. Broune, Hetta?
human
Yes;--pretty well. I don't care very much about him. What makes you ask, mamma?
gpt
Because among my acquaintances in London there is no one so truly kind to me as he is.
human
He always seems to me to like to have his own way.
gpt
Why shouldn't he like it?
human
He has to me that air of selfishness which is so very common with people in London;--as though what he said were all said out of surface politeness.
gpt
I wonder what you expect, Hetta, when you talk of--London people? Why should not London people be as kind as other people? I think Mr. Broune is as obliging a man as any one I know. But if I like anybody, you always make little of him. The only person you seem to think well of is Mr. Montague.
human
Mamma, that is unfair and unkind. I never mention Mr. Montague's name if I can help it,--and I should not have spoken of Mr. Broune, had you not asked me.
gpt
I hope they are kind to you,