Chapter 48 - Page 2

quite different from man's;
that it shows in their conversation, but can't be written. What they put
in their books is a kind of imitation of man's humour, and very bad. He
said that George Eliot was a very mannish woman, but that even _her_
humour made him melancholy."

"Oh, then I shall be in very good company if I am so fortunate as to make
this clever young gentleman melancholy."

"I quite agree with him," said Mary, wishing to tease Constance. "As a
rule, there is something very depressing about a woman's writing when she
wishes to be amusing."

But the other would not be teased. "Do you know, Mary," she said,
returning to the first subject, "I was in hopes that you were going to
make a much more important confession. I'm sure we both expected it."

"You must speak for yourself about a confession," said Fan. "But I did
feel sorry to see how cast down poor Captain Horton looked before going
away."

"The more I see of him," continued Constance, heedless of Mary's
darkening brow, "the better I like him. He is the very type of what a man
should be--strong and independent, yet gentle, so patient when his
patience is tried. It was easy to see that he was not happy, and that the
cause of it was the coldness of one Mary Starbrow."

"Why not _your_ coldness, or Fan's coldness?" snapped the other.

"I was not, and could not, be cold to him, and as to Fan----"

"Why, he was constantly with me; we were the best of friends, as you know
very well, Mary."

"So handsome too, and he has such a fine voice," continued Constance.
"Sometimes when he and Mary sang duets together, and when he seemed so
grateful for her graciousness, I thought what a splendid couple they
would make. Didn't you think the same, Fan?"

"Yes," she replied a little doubtfully.

"Yes!" mocked Mary. "It would be a great pleasure to me to duck you in
the sea for slavishly echoing everything Constance says."

"Thank you, Mary, but I'm not so fond of getting wet as you are," said
Fan, with a somewhat troubled smile.

Constance went on pitilessly:

Oh, he was the half part of a better man
Left to be finished by such as she;
And she a fair divided excellence
Whose fullness of perfection was in him.

"And pray what are you, Constance?" retorted the other. "A fair divided
excellence or an excellence all by yourself, or what? If you find
pleasure in contemplating a deep romantic attachment, think a little more
of Mr. Northcott. He is the type of a gentleman, if you like--brave and
gentle,