"There was
never anything like mamma's confidence. I am very different; I have no
confidence. And then I don't like being deposited, like a parcel, or
being watched, like a curious animal. I am too fond of my liberty."
"That is the second time you have contradicted yourself," said Bernard.
"You said just now that you were not an independent being."
Angela turned toward him quickly, smiling and frowning at once.
"You do watch one, certainly! I see it has already begun." Mrs. Vivian
laid her hand upon her daughter's with a little murmur of tender
deprecation, and the girl bent over and kissed her. "Mamma will tell you
it 's the effect of agitation," she said--"that I am nervous, and don't
know what I say. I am supposed to be agitated by Mr. Wright's departure;
is n't that it, mamma?"
Mrs. Vivian turned away, with a certain soft severity.
"I don't know, my daughter. I don't understand you."
A charming pink flush had come into Angela's cheek and a noticeable
light into her eye. She looked admirably handsome, and Bernard frankly
gazed at her. She met his gaze an instant, and then she went on.
"Mr. Longueville does n't understand me either. You must know that I am
agitated," she continued.
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