'You received the long letter I wrote to you about him?'
'Yes, Cecilia, and I answered it. It seems to me very foolish to pronounce condemnatory opinion on the whole world; and particularly for you who have seen so little of it.'
'That doesn't matter. People are blinded by their passions; but when these have worn themselves out, they see the truth in all its horrible nakedness. One of these days you'll tell me that I am right. You have been a good deal in the world lately; tell me if you have found it beautiful. You didn't believe me when I told you that men were vile and abominable; you said there were good men in the world, that you were sure of it. Have you found them? Was Mr. Harding so very perfect?'
Alice coloured again; she hesitated, and in the silence Cecilia again divined her friend's thoughts.
'A very poor ideal indeed, it seems to me that you set yourself—to make the best of this wretched world.'
'I cannot understand what good can come of craving after the unattainable,' said Alice, looking earnestly out of her grey sharp eyes.
'True beauty lies only in the unattainable,' said Cecilia, lifting her eyes with that curious movement of the eyeball by which painters represent faith and mysticism.
At the end of a long silence, Alice said:
'But you'll have some tea, will you not, Cecilia?'
'Yes; but don't let us go downstairs.'