with naturally the most vicious inclinations. It is most salutary.
Even I am but a worm, Miss Hugonin, though the press has been pleased
to speak most kindly of me. Even you--ah, no!" cried Mr. Jukesbury,
kissing his finger-tips, with gallantry; "let us say a worm who has
burst its cocoon and become a butterfly--a butterfly with a charming
face and a most charitable disposition and considerable property!"
Margaret thanked him with a smile, and began to think wistfully of the
Ladies' League accounts. Still, he was a good man; and she endeavoured
to persuade herself that she considered his goodness to atone for his
flabbiness and his fleshiness and his interminable verbosity--which