“I see no harm at all in Tantripp’s talking to me.  It is better to hear what people say.  You see what mistakes you make by taking up notions.  I am quite sure that Sir James means to make you an offer; and he believes that you will accept him, especially since you have been so pleased with him about the plans.  And uncle too—­I know he expects it.  Every one can see that Sir James is very much in love with you.”

The revulsion was so strong and painful in Dorothea’s mind that the tears welled up and flowed abundantly.  All her dear plans were embittered, and she thought with disgust of Sir James’s conceiving that she recognized him as her lover.  There was vexation too on account of Celia.

“How could he expect it?” she burst forth in her most impetuous manner.  “I have never agreed with him about anything but the cottages:  I was barely polite to him before.”

“But you have been so pleased with him since then; he has begun to feel quite sure that you are fond of him.”

“Fond of him, Celia!  How can you choose such odious expressions?” said Dorothea, passionately.

“Dear me, Dorothea, I suppose it would be right for you to be fond of a man whom you accepted for a husband.”

“It is offensive to me to say that Sir James could think I was fond of him.  Besides, it is not the right word for the feeling I must have towards the man I would accept as a husband.”

“Well, I am sorry for Sir James.  I thought it right to tell you, because you went on as you always do, never looking just where you are, and treading in the wrong place.  You always see what nobody else sees; it is impossible to satisfy you; yet you never see what is quite plain.  That’s your way, Dodo.”  Something certainly gave Celia unusual courage; and she was not sparing the sister of whom she was occasionally in awe.  Who can tell what just criticisms Murr the Cat may be passing on us beings of wider speculation?

“It is very painful,” said Dorothea, feeling scourged.  “I can have no more to do with the cottages.  I must be uncivil to him.  I must tell him I will have nothing to do with them.  It is very painful.”  Her eyes filled again with tears.

“Wait a little.  Think about it.  You know he is going away for a day or two to see his sister.  There will be nobody besides Lovegood.”  Celia could not help relenting.  “Poor Dodo,” she went on, in an amiable staccato.  “It is very hard:  it is your favorite fad to draw plans.”

“Fad to draw plans!  Do you think I only care about my fellow-creatures’ houses in that childish way?  I may well make mistakes.  How can one ever do anything nobly Christian, living among people with such petty thoughts?”