At half past three o’ clock, Sarah placed the last curl on Mary’s neck, handed her a necklace, and stood back to admire her handiwork. “You look like you’re going to an execution,” she observed bluntly. “I wish Mr. Crowninshield was calling on me. I think he’s handsome.”
Mary gave her sister a sour look. “Would you marry him just because of his appearance?”
“No. I’d marry him because he’s nice.”
“You’re lucky to have his interest. He doesn’t have to get married for years. If you don’t accept him, I will.”
“Now you’re just being cheeky. I wish everyone would stop pushing me toward Mr. Crowninshield.” Mary picked up her fan.
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