"Yes. I can remember when I was a young girl that I used to be terribly afraid that no one would ever fall in love with me because I was so ugly. I used to wish so that I had curling eyelashes and rose-leaf complexions and things: and, lo and behold! before I was eighteen the great beautiful truth dawned upon me. Just let a man talk about himself until he is black in the face and he will never tire of your society, no matter what you look like. Nothing else is necessary. A man thinks any eyes gazing admiringly into his are beautiful eyes: he considers any voice that murmurs timely flatteries in his good right ear a sweet voice: and any woman with intelligence enough to laugh heartily at his stale jokes and listen respectfully to his dull anecdotes, has all the intelligence that any female needs, in his opinion. So there you are. Having this knowledge, what else did I lack? I promptly became a belle of the first water and have remained so for ten years. Pretty girls have lost their beauty, rich girls have lost their money, lively girls have lost their vivacity; but I remain perennially attractive because I have grasped the great truth that every man prefers himself to anything else on earth and, next to himself, admires the woman who acts as though she agreed with him. I'm in a candid mood to-night, am I not, Mr. Lighton? What is the matter? you don't look very happy."
"I can't help wondering," confessed Mr. Lighton, rather ruefully, "why, if you're so fond of having men like you, you've never been nicer to me."
"Because," she returned, slowly, "I very soon received the impression that you were more or less in earnest. Now my puppy days have passed and I take no pleasure in causing pain; and it must be more or less painful to want some one who doesn't care anything about you. So I thought it best to be flippant and unpleasant in the hope that you would get disgusted. Why didn't you?"
"I—I don't know"—
"Yes, I've been most hateful," continued Lynn, thoughtfully. "I wonder if it would do any good if I were to tell you all the harsh things I've said about you to Aunt Lucy."
"I don't think," said Mr. Lighton, hastily and firmly, "that it would do a bit of good."
"Then I won't. But will you tell me just as a matter of curiosity—what it was that you liked about me?"
"In the first place," her companion said, pondering, "I suppose I liked you because you didn't chase me and it was such a change. You see when a fellow has a good position and money coming to him"— He wiped his forehead and looked scared and reminiscent.
"I see," exclaimed Lynn. "I must make a note of that. There are men who tire of being 'chased.' Then there must be men who tire of tobacco, I suppose."
"I don't know about that," said Mr. Lighton, dubiously. "You see, when one has smoked long enough, one can always throw one's cigar out of the window. So one doesn't get as sick of it as one does of women."