 know her
better.«
    »It was rather awkward, Marian,« the elder sister explained. »We felt
obliged to say something about Mr Reardon's books, but we haven't read any of
them yet, you know, so I just said that I hoped soon to read his new novel. I
suppose you have seen reviews of it? she asked at once. Of course I ought to
have had the courage to say no, but I admitted that I had seen one or two -
Jasper showed us them. She looked very much annoyed, and after that we didn't
find much to talk about.«
    »The reviews are very disagreeable,« said Marian with a troubled face. »I
have read the book since I saw you the other day, and I'm afraid it isn't any
good, but I have seen many worse novels more kindly reviewed.«
    »Jasper says it's because Mr Reardon has no friends among the journalists.«
    »Still,« replied Marian, »I'm afraid they couldn't have given the book much
praise, if they wrote honestly. Did Amy ask you to go and see her?«
    »Yes, but she said it was uncertain how long they would be living at their
present address. And really we can't feel sure whether we should be welcome or
not just now.«
    Marian listened with bent head. She too had to make known to her friends
that they were not welcome in her own home; but she knew not how to utter words
which would sound so unkind.
    »Your brother,« she said after a pause, »will soon find suitable friends for
you.«
    »Before long,« replied Dora, with a look of amusement, »he's going to take
us to call on Mrs Boston Wright. I hardly thought he was serious at first, but
he says he really means it.«
    Marian grew more and more silent. At home she had felt that it would not be
difficult to explain her troubles to these sympathetic girls, but now the time
had come for speaking, she was oppressed by shame and anxiety. True, there was
no absolute necessity for making the confession this evening, and if she chose
to resist her father's prejudice, things might even go on in a seemingly natural
way. But the loneliness of her life had developed in her a sensitiveness which
could not endure situations such as the present; difficulties which are of small
account to people who take their part in active social life, harassed
