"Well?" she asked suddenly. "What are you thinking about?"
"Miss Warrington," Rachel replied rashly, because she had to say
something. She did indeed see Susan murmuring to Mrs. Elliot, while
Arthur stared at her with complete confidence in his own love. Both
Rachel and Evelyn then began to listen to what Susan was saying.
"There's the ordering and the dogs and the garden, and the children
coming to be taught," her voice proceeded rhythmically as if checking
the list, "and my tennis, and the village, and letters to write for
father, and a thousand little things that don't sound much; but I never
have a moment to myself, and when I got to bed, I'm so sleepy I'm off
before my head touches the pillow. Besides I like to be a great deal
with my Aunts--I'm a great bore, aren't I, Aunt Emma?" (she smiled at
old Mrs. Paley, who with head slightly drooped was regarding the cake
with speculative affection), "and father has to be very careful about
chills in winter which means a great deal of running about, because
he won't look after himself, any more than you will, Arthur! So it all
mounts up!"
Her voice mounted too, in a mild ecstasy of satisfaction with her life
and her own nature. Rachel suddenly took a violent dislike to Susan,
ignoring all that was kindly, modest, and even pathetic about her. She
appeared insincere and cruel; she saw her grown stout and prolific, the
kind blue eyes now shallow and watery, the bloom of the cheeks congealed
to a network of dry red canals.
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