Miss Macnulty knew that worthlessness, cruelty, and
falseness had to be endured by such as she. And she could bear them
without caring much about them; not condemning them, even within her own
heart, very heavily. But she was strangely deficient in this, that she
could not call these qualities by other names, even to the owners of them.
She was unable to pretend to believe Lizzie's rhapsodies. It was hardly
conscience or a grand spirit of truth that actuated her, as much as a want
of the courage needed for lying. She had not had the face to call old Lady
Linlithgow kind, and therefore old Lady Linlithgow had turned her out of
the house. When Lady Eustace called on her for sympathy, she had not
courage enough to dare to attempt the bit of acting which would be
necessary for sympathetic expression. She was like a dog or a child, and
was unable not to be true. Lizzie was longing for a little mock sympathy--
was longing to show off her Shelley, and was very kind to Miss Macnulty
when she got the poor lady into the recess of the window. "This is nice;
is it not?" she said, as she spread her hand out through the open space
toward the "wide expanse of glittering waves.
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