"That's a beautiful sophism," said the girl with a smile more
beautiful still.
"An ummarried woman- a girl of your age- isn't independent. There
are all sorts of things she can't do. She's hampered at every step."
"That's as she looks at the question," Isabel answered with much
spirit. not in my first youth- I can do what I choose- I belong
quite to the independent class. I've neither father nor mother; I'm
poor and of a serious disposition; I'm not pretty. I therefore am
not bound to be timid and conventional; indeed I can't afford such
luxuries. Besides, I try to judge things for myself; to judge wrong, I
think, is more honourable than not to judge at all. I don't wish to be
a mere sheep in the flock; I wish to choose my fate and know something
of human affairs beyond what other people think it compatible with
propriety to tell me." She paused a moment, but not long enough for
her companion to reply. He was apparently on the point of doing so
when she went on: "Let me say this to you, Mr. Goodwood. You're so
kind as to speak of being afraid of my marrying. If you should hear
a rumour that I'm on the point of doing so- girls are liable to have
such things said about them- remember what I have told you about my
love of liberty and venture to doubt it.
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