'Why strange?'
'I mean that one woman should so much admire another. Had you been a man it might be natural enough, and understandable too.'
'But why not a woman?' persisted Alison.
'Women are often too petty—too jealous generally of each other; but you are a dear pet, Alison, and admire those whom you love. As for Dalton, he has seen so little of me—here at least.'
'What! has he met you elsewhere?' asked Alison, quickly.
'No; I have not said so,' replied Mrs. Trelawney, colouring deeply for a moment.
'But your words seemed to imply this, Laura.'
'They implied nothing—I scarcely know what I said; but as for praising me, Alison,' said Mrs. Trelawney, to turn the conversation apparently, 'you can well afford to do so; but if I were to be denuded of my borrowed plumes, my gay dresses, and general make-up, I might cut a sorry figure perhaps, while you in the bloom of your girlhood—'
'Require all that bloom, Laura; if my good looks, and the impression they may make, depended on all the finery poor papa can give me, I should cut but a sorry figure too.'
Then both laughed as they turned to the mirror above the mantelpiece, that reflected two faces, which, though different in style, contour, and colour, were both lovely indeed, and the owners thereof felt that they were so.