"
"Oh, deliver me from a strong-minded lady!" I cried. "Damer is quite
welcome to her."
"Your one isn't a bit strong-minded," said Maria. "She is very pretty,
but has no will of her own at all. She leans completely on Frances; I
don't know what she'll do when she marries, for they have been orphans
since they were quite children, and have never lived apart for a
week."
At this point Polly broke in with even more warmth and directness of
speech than usual,
"Frances Chislett is the most superior girl I ever knew. Men always
laugh at strong-minded women; but I'm sure I don't know why. I can't
think how any human being with duties and responsibilities can be
either more useful or more agreeable for being weak-minded."
And this was all that Polly contributed to our nonsensical
conversation about the heiresses.
After she came I forsook the society of Maria. I knew now that she
only wanted to talk to me about the Rector and the parish. Besides,
though Maria was strongly interested in Dacrefield for Clerke's sake,
she knew much less of it than Polly, with whom I revisited numberless
haunts of our childhood, the barns and stables, the fernery, the
"Pulpit" and the "Pew.
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