I know well how much I vex you at every turn."
"But no--"
Miss Bartlett assumed her favourite role, that of the prematurely
aged martyr.
"Ah, but yes! I feel that our tour together is hardly the success
I had hoped. I might have known it would not do. You want some
one younger and stronger and more in sympathy with you. I am too
uninteresting and old-fashioned--only fit to pack and unpack your
things."
"Please--"
"My only consolation was that you found people more to your
taste, and were often able to leave me at home. I had my own poor
ideas of what a lady ought to do, but I hope I did not inflict
them on you more than was necessary. You had your own way about
these rooms, at all events."
"You mustn't say these things," said Lucy softly.
She still clung to the hope that she and Charlotte loved each
other, heart and soul. They continued to pack in silence.
"I have been a failure," said Miss Bartlett, as she struggled
with the straps of Lucy's trunk instead of strapping her own.
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