Phebe glanced at Halloway, and laughed a little as she moved away.
"Oh, I am learning by degrees not to be bored by people,—not even by
Miss Delano."
"Now, will any one explain why she should wish to teach herself not to know a bore from a Christian?" exclaimed Gerald, impatiently. "It is quite beyond me."
"But do you really never talk to anybody unless you want to, Miss Vernor?" asked Bell, disagreeably conscious that Gerald had not voluntarily addressed her once that morning.
"Never," replied Gerald, staring out at the lake.
"Don't you ever do any thing you don't want to, because you ought to?"
"I don't always see the ought. For instance, why should I put myself out to entertain Miss Delano as Phebe does?"
"I don't know," muttered Bell. "I wouldn't, I am sure. She is mortally dull."
"One might imagine reasons for the self-sacrifice, I suppose," said De Forest, making a languid snatch at a butterfly fluttering near. "The possibility, we will say, that it might please the gentle old babbler to come under the condescension of your notice. How would that do for a motive?"
"Why should I want to please her?" insisted Gerald, removing a hideous beetle from her dress with all possible care lest she should hurt it. "I don't want to. I don't care for her, nor she for me. Why should I put myself out for her? What claim has she on me that I should displease myself to please her?"
"Let us see," said Denham, ruminatingly. "Miss Delano's pleasure against Miss Vernor's displeasure, or _vice versa, Miss Vernor's pleasure against Miss Delano's displeasure. Yes; the balance of pleasure remains quite the same whichever lady has it. Apart from principle, the logic is unanswerable."