Margaret smiled quietly, and moved away. She had too much self-possession to be either flattered or pleased by his ironical civility.
When they went up-stairs to prepare for their ride, Harriet, whose ways were singularly independent, came into Margaret's room, half attired, and stood before the large glass arranging her habit.
"Look here, Margaret," said she, "you should wear a waistcoat."
"Masculine?"
"Not at all; copy me, my dear, I dress very well on horseback."
"So you do at all times, I think," said Margaret.
"Much obliged. I say, what do you think of Evan?"
"I should be so very likely to tell you truly," said Margaret.
"Then I will tell you what to think of him," said Harriet, "he has an excellent head, my dear, but no heart; he thinks he will be a very great man. I differ from him; no very great man ever was heartless. He will be only a little above the middle size. I like him very much."
"How odd you are, Harriet."