She pitied and despised them from the bottom of her heart, as she stood on the soft carpet, looking at the old engraving of a little girl with a muff. With all this luxury going on, what hope was there for a better state of things? Instead of lying on a sofa--"My mother is resting," Elizabeth had said--she should have been in a factory; behind a counter; Mrs. Dalloway and all the other fine ladies!