"Dear Celia," said Dorothea, with tender gravity, "if you don't
ever see me, it will not be my fault."
"Yes, it will," said Celia, with the same touching distortion
of her small features. "How can I come to you or have you with me
when James can't bear it?--that is because he thinks it is not right--
he thinks you are so wrong, Dodo. But you always were wrong: only I
can't help loving you. And nobody can think where you will live:
where can you go?"
"I am going to London," said Dorothea.
"How can you always live in a street? And you will be so poor.
I could give you half my things, only how can I, when I never
see you?"
"Bless you, Kitty," said Dorothea, with gentle warmth. "Take comfort:
perhaps James will forgive me some time."
"But it would be much better if you would not be married," said Celia,
drying her eyes, and returning to her argument; "then there would
be nothing uncomfortable. And you would not do what nobody thought
you could do. James always said you ought to be a queen; but this
is not at all being like a queen. You know what mistakes you
have always been making, Dodo, and this is another. Nobody thinks
Mr. Ladislaw a proper husband for you. And you _said you_ would
never be married again."
"It is quite true that I might be a wiser person, Celia," said Dorothea,
"and that I might have done something better, if I had been better.
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