"No doubt. Fair women are always to be admired. You admire her very much?"
"I think her pretty; but"—with an indescribable glance at the "nut-brown locks" before him, that says all manner of charming things—"her hair, to please me, is far too golden."
"Oh, do you think so?" says Mrs. Arlington, surprised. "I saw her distinctly from my window, and I thought her hair very lovely, and she herself one of the prettiest creatures I have ever seen."
"That is strong praise. I confess I have seen others I thought better worthy of admiration."
"You have been lucky, then,"—indifferently. "When one travels, one of course sees a great deal, and becomes a judge on such matters."
"I didn't travel far to find that out."
"To find what out?"
"A prettier woman than Miss Chesney."
"No?" with cold unconcern and an evident want of interest on the subject. "How lovely the flowers look with those little drops of rain in their hearts!—like a touch of sorrow in the very centre of their joy."