“You think so?”
“I'm certain of it. You have n't got habits of discipline to serve with a regular corps; to do anything, or be anything, you must command a partisan legion—”
“You're right there; I know that,” broke he in.
“I don't mean it as flattery, but rather something a little bordering on the reverse,” said she, fixing her eyes steadfastly on him; “for, after all, there is no great success—I mean, no towering success—to be achieved by such a line; but as I feel that you 'll not work—”
“No; of that be assured!”
“Then there are only secondary rewards to be won.”
“You certainly do not overestimate me!” said Jack, trying to seem perfectly indifferent.
“I have no desire to underrate your abilities,” said she, calmly; “they are very good ones. You have great fluency,—great 'variety,' as Grattan would call it,—an excellent memory, and a most amiable self-possession.”
“By Jove!” said he, reddening slightly, “you enumerate my little gifts with all the accuracy of an appraiser!”
“Then,” resumed she, not heeding his interruption, “you have abundance of what is vulgarly styled 'pluck,' and which is to courage what esprit is to actual wit; and, lastly, you are a proficient in that readiness which the world always accepts for frankness.”