"Well, I should say, not much older, or
much younger than I am."

"Do you know him?"

"Yes."

"Do you like him?"

"Immensely sometimes; sometimes I find
him the most dreadful bore."

"Which should I do? Like him
immensely, or find him the most dreadful
bore?"

"I would not venture to prophesy:
rather the latter than the former I should,
however, imagine."

"I think," said Myrrha, with a meditative
air, and her eyes fixed full on Mr. Stewart,
"that I should like him immensely."

"He would, indeed, be a fortunate man
were that the case; but what makes you
think you would like him?"

"To begin with, I generally like men
about the age you describe him to be, so
much better than younger men."

"I described him to be about my age."

"Yes. At that age one knows what a
man is. He is not likely to turn out much
better or much worse than one finds him.
He is trustworthy, too. One can look up
to him and feel confidence in him."

"It is a fortunate age, Miss Brown, if it
inspires such sentiments in so charming a
creature as yourself."

"You don't think me charming, I know.
I wonder if the owner of Redcombe would!"

"May I ask what, besides his age, disposes
you favourably towards the possessor
of Redcombe?"

"I'll give you a frank answer, Mr.
Stewart: his being the possessor of
Redcombe."

"I like frankness."

"I'm glad you find some one thing in
me to like. I like to be liked."

"No doubt you do."

"Do you find anything reprehensible in
that?"

"Certainly not: it is an admirable
quality; but whether it is more or less
admirable depends upon the motives and the
manner of its manifestation."

"You can never say anything in my
favour without nullifying qualifications,
implied if not spoken. I wonder what you
really think of me?"

"You take for granted I do really think
about you?"

Myrrha coloured delicately, but very
perceptibly, a pink shade tinging both her
face and neck.

"Aunt Daisy, I'll tell you what I think
of Mr. Stewart. I think of all the men
I have ever encountered he is the least
chivalrous, not to say the most
uncourteous."

"And of the men I know, Myrrha, he is
the most chivalrous."

"I pity your unfortunate experience of
men, then, Aunt Daisy. Possibly Mr.
Stewart can be chivalrous and courteous
to one woman, but that is not the
characteristic of chivalry."

"Quite true," assented Mr. Stewart.

After a few minutes Myrrha resumed
her cross-examination.

"Is there a croquet-lawn at Redcombe,
Mr. Stewart? Does the mysterious owner,
whom you and Aunt Daisy seem to wish
should be nameless, give garden-parties?"

"A croquet-lawn! " repeated Mr. Stewart,
reflectively. " I should think not. Redcombe
is a very old-fashioned place, and I
have not heard of any modern improvements.
No, I should say there is not a
croquet-lawn. Neither, to my knowledge,
are garden-parties known at Redcombe.
But you see, Miss Brown, all this is easily
changed. Of course the owner of Redcombe
would only need to know that Miss
Brown desired these things in order to
institute them."

"You are chaffing me, Mr. Stewart. I
suppose he isn't even a calling-acquaintance
of Aunt Daisy's—I haven't heard of Aunt
Daisy's having one single acquaintance,
except you, Mr. Stewart. So, of course,
you're only chaffing me."

"Let me see: chaffing you means amusing
myself at your expense, doesn't it, Miss
Brown?"

"You know it does!"

"Well, I was hardly doing that. It isn't
likely that the owner of Redcombe is as
unchivalrous and uncourteous as you find
me; and if he is not, why then, surely,
my prophecy about him is not an unsafe
one."

"Is he at home, just now?"

"That depends in what sense you use
the words 'at home'—he is in England."

Myrrha would not further pursue her
inquiries: having finished her tea, she
went to the piano and began to play softly
in the twilight. She seemed dreamily
absorbed in the dreamy music; but she
kept a sharp sidelong watch on her Aunt
Daisy's low chair in the window, over
which Mr. Stewart was bending—till,
by-and-bye, he came to her side. Daisy rising
noiselessly, left the room, and strayed into
the garden.

It was intolerable! What was? The