"What is amusing you so greatly?" Mara asked.
"I can't get over that party at Mrs. Willoughby's. It was all so irresistibly comical. Cousin Sophy thinks she has a genius for choosing chaperons, and so she has, but fate is too strong for men and gods, not to mention saintly and secluded old ladies. I had scarcely more than entered the drawing-room, and taken my bearings, as cousin would say, when the worst Vandal of the lot is marched up to me, and I—green little girl—thought I must be polite to him and every one else. When I think of it all, I see that my chaperon was like a distressed hen with a duckling that would go into the water. Without any effort of mine, that great Goth, Mr. Houghton, submitted himself to my inspection, and instead of being horrified, I have been laughing at him ever since. He struck me as an exceedingly harmless creature, with large capabilities for blundering. He would not step on a fly maliciously, yet poor Mrs. Robertson acted as if I were near an ogre who might devour me at a mouthful. How she did manoeuvre to keep that big fellow away! and what a homily she gave me on our way home! It all seems so absurd. I wish papa would not take such things so seriously, for I can't see any harm in making sport of the Philistines."
"Making sport for the Philistines—that is what your father and what we all object to. This young Houghton would very gladly amuse himself at your expense."
"I'd like to see him try it," said Ella defiantly. "I'd turn the tables on him so quickly as to take away his breath."
"Oh, Ella! why do you think about such people at all?"
"Because they amuse me. What's the harm in thinking about him in my jolly way? There's nothing bad about him. His worst crimes are, that he is comical and the son of his father."
"How do you know there's nothing bad about him?"
"For the same reason that I distrust Miss Ainsley. Each makes an impression which I believe is correct."
"Well, well, Ella," said Mara, a little impatiently, "laugh it out and have done with him. For all our sakes, please have nothing more to do with such people."
"I haven't sought 'such people,'" replied Ella, with a shrug; "but I tell you, Mara, I'm not going through life with my eyes shut, nor am I going to look through a pair of blue spectacles. See here, sweetheart, what did God give me eyes for? What did he give me a brain for? To see through some one else's eyes? to think with the brain of another? No, indeed; that's contrary to such reason and common-sense as I possess."