it could not have come about in the throw of fortune for Carrie
to be pleased.

Minnie worked with less elation than she had just before Carrie
arrived. The sizzle of the meat frying did not sound quite so
pleasing now that Carrie had reported her discontent. To Carrie,
the one relief of the whole day would have been a jolly home, a
sympathetic reception, a bright supper table, and some one to
say: "Oh, well, stand it a little while. You will get something
better," but now this was ashes. She began to see that they
looked upon her complaint as unwarranted, and that she was
supposed to work on and say nothing. She knew that she was to
pay four dollars for her board and room, and now she felt that it
would be an exceedingly gloomy round, living with these people.

Minnie was no companion for her sister--she was too old. Her
thoughts were staid and solemnly adapted to a condition. If
Hanson had any pleasant thoughts or happy feelings he concealed
them. He seemed to do all his mental operations without the aid
of physical expression. He was as still as a deserted chamber.
Carrie, on the other hand, had the blood of youth and some
imagination. Her day of love and the mysteries of courtship were
still ahead. She could think of things she would like to do, of
clothes she would like to wear, and of places she would like to
visit. These were the things upon which her mind ran, and it was
like meeting with opposition at every turn to find no one here to
call forth or respond to her feelings.

She had forgotten, in considering and explaining the result of
her day, that Drouet might come. Now, when she saw how