“Naturally, dear,” chimed in Miss Minchell, “a personal explanation always makes things seem different.”
Julia sighed, but summed up her courage to read out—
“'When woman is prized according to her intellect and man according to his virtue; oh, then mankind will return to Eden!'”
“That,” said he, “is one of the rare instances of my uncle's pessimism.”
“Of his pessimism! How can you say that?”
“He meant to imply that mankind would have to wait for some considerable time. But do not feel dismayed. My own opinion is that so long as woman is fair and man has the wit to appreciate her, we ARE in Eden.”
The gracious tone in which he delivered this dictum, and the moving smile that accompanied it, appeared to atone completely for his relative's cynical philosophy. With a smile and a sigh Julia murmured—
“Do you really think so?”
“I do,” said the Count fervently; “and now suppose we were to have a little music?”
“Oh yes!” cried Miss Minchell; “do you perform, Count Bunker?”