"Everything seems to strike you in a humorous light to-day," answered
John, beginning to be pacified by her tone.
"Do you know, you are much more interesting when you are angry," said
Mrs. Goddard.
"And you only made me angry in order to see whether I was interesting?"
"Perhaps—but then, I could not help it in the least."
"I trust you are thoroughly satisfied upon the point, Mrs. Goddard? If there is anything more that I can do to facilitate your researches in psychology—"
"You would help me? Even to the extent of being angry again?" She smiled so pleasantly and frankly that John's wrath vanished.
"It is impossible to be angry with you. I am very sorry if I seemed to be," he answered. "A man who has the good fortune to be thrown into your society is a fool to waste his time in being disagreeable."
"I agree with the conclusion, at all events—that is, it is much better to be agreeable. Is it not? Let us be friends."
"Oh, by all means," said John.
They walked on for some minutes in silence. John reflected that he had witnessed a phase of Mrs. Goddard's character of which he had been very far from suspecting the existence. He had not hitherto imagined her to be a woman of quick temper or sharp speech. His idea of her was formed chiefly upon her appearance. Her sad face, with its pathetic expression, suggested a melancholy humour delighting in subdued and tranquil thoughts, inclined naturally to the romantic view, or to what in the eyes of youths of twenty appears to be the romantic view of life. He had suddenly found her answering him with a sharpness which, while it roused his wits, startled his sensibilities. But he was flattered as well. His instinct and his observation of Mrs. Goddard when in the society of others led him to believe that with Mr. and Mrs. Ambrose, or even with Mr. Juxon, she was not in the habit of talking as she talked with him. He was therefore inwardly pleased, so soon as his passing annoyance had subsided, to feel that she made a difference between him and others.