'And why have you done it, Mary? When I am fighting your battles
behind your back, why do you come and upset it all by making the whole
family of the De Courcys dislike you? In such a matter as that,
they'll all go together.'

'I am sure they will,' said Mary; 'whether they would be equally
unanimous in a case of love and charity, that, indeed, is another
question.'

'But why should you try to make my cousin angry; you that ought to have
so much sense? Don't you remember that you were saying yourself the
other day, of the absurdity of combatting pretences which the world
sanctions?'

'I do, Trichy, I do; don't scold me now. It is so much easier to
preach than to practise. I do so wish I was a clergyman.'

'But you have done so much harm, Mary.'

'Have I?' said Mary, kneeling down on the ground at her friend's feet.
'If I humble myself very low; if I kneel through the whole evening in a
corner; if I put my neck down and let all your cousins trample on it,
and then your aunt, would not that make atonement? I would not object
to wearing sackcloth, either; and I'd eat a little ashes--or, at any
rate, I'd try.'

'I know you're clever, Mary; but still I think you're a fool. I do,
indeed.'