“In point of fact, then, you only wish for me here to quarrel with, is that the truth?”
“I think it better fun disagreeing with you than always saying how accurate you are, and how wise, and how well-judging. That atmosphere of eternal agreement chokes me; I feel as if I were suffocating.”
“It's not a very happy temperament; it's not a disposition to boast of.”
“You never did hear me boast of it; but I have heard you very vainglorious about your easy temper and your facile nature, which were simply indolence. Now, I have had more than enough of that in the convent, and I long for a little activity.”
“Even if it were hazardous?”
“Even if it were hazardous,” echoed she. “But here comes Aunt Dinah, with a face as stern as one of the sisters, and an eye that reminds me of penance and bread and water; so help me to put up my drawings, and say nothing of what we were talking.”
“My brother has just told me, Mr. Conyers,” said she, in a whisper, “a piece of news which it only depends upon you to make a most agreeable arrangement.”
“I trust you may count upon me, madam,” said he, in the same tone, and bowed low as he spoke.
“Then come with me and let us talk it over,” said she, as she took his arm and led him away.
END OF VOL. I.