My mother says it
may be months before she can come, and she forbids me positively to go to
her. Oh! but for that, I'd put on boy's clothes, and go as a common
sailor to get to her."
Vizard fidgeted on his chair.
"I suppose I mustn't go in a passion," said he, dryly.
"Who cares?" said Miss Gale, turning her head sharply on him in the way I
have tried to describe.
"I care," said Vizard. "I find wrath interfere with my digestion. Please
go on, and tell us what your mother says. She has more common sense than
somebody else I won't name--politeness forbids."
"Well, who doubts that?" said the lady, with frank good humor. "Of course
she has more sense than any of us. Well, my mother says--oh, Miss
Vizard!"
"No, she doesn't now. She never heard the name of Vizard."
Miss Gale was in no humor for feeble jokes. She turned half angrily away
from him to Zoe. "She says I have been well educated, and know languages;
and we are both under a cloud, and I had better give up all thought of
medicine, and take to teaching."
"Well, Miss Gale," said Zoe, "if you ask _me,_ I must say I think it is
good advice. With all your gifts, how can you fight the world? We are all
interested in you here; and it is a curious thing, but do you know we
agreed the other day you would have to give up medicine, and fall into
some occupation in which there are many ladies already to keep you in
countenance.
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