"Oh no," she answered, trying to smile and say something amusing after the manner of Gertrude; "they will only shake their heads at their daughters and say, 'There goes another rebel who isn't content to be beautiful, innocent, and protected.'"
But Janet's attempts to be amusing were not successful with her father.
"They won't at all. They'll say, 'At any rate her father is well off enough to give her enough to live upon, and not make her work as a governess.'"
"We know that's got nothing to do with it. If I were dependent, I should feel I'd less right to choose———"
"But you're mistaken; that's not honesty, but egoism, on your part."
Janet had nothing to answer; there was a pause, as if her father wished her to argue the point. She thought, perhaps, she had better say something, else she would show too plainly that she saw he was in the wrong; but she said nothing, and he went on: "And what will people say at the idea of you're being a governess? Practically a servant in a stranger's house, with a pretence of equality, but less pay than a good cook. What will all our friends say?"
Janet did not wish to say to herself in so many words that her father was a snob. If he had left her alone, she would have been satisfied with the unacknowledged feeling that he attached importance to certain things.
"Surely people of understanding know there's no harm in being a governess, and I'm quite willing to be ignored by any one who can't see that."
These were the first words she spoke with any warmth.
"Selfishness again. It's not only your concern: what will your sister think and feel about it?"
