"Well, no, I don't think they are," Cripps said, getting very red. "I really have never thought about it; one doesn't, you know, with one's own people."
"You'd have to if you were like me," Lallie sighed. "Dad is tremendously good-looking; so's Paddy--don't you think so?"
"Ye-e-e-s," Cripps answered, without enthusiasm, "I suppose he is; but one doesn't notice that sort of thing much in fellows----"
"I think it's their noses that make them so distinguished," Lallie continued meditatively. "Dad's and Paddy's, I mean. Now, my nose begins well, it does really--but it changes its character half way; and it's got a confiding tip, and that isn't in the least distinguished. My only consolation is, it isn't often red."
"I think it's an extremely neat nose," Cripps said, with convincing sincerity.
"Neat, but not gaudy! Ah, well, it's the best I've got, anyway, and I can smell anything burning in the kitchen quicker than most people. But all the same, I think it must be very agreeable to be so good-looking that people want to please you just because of it, without you doing anything at all. That's the way with Dad and Paddy. Now ordinary folks like you and me--I hope you don't mind rowing in the same boat with me?--have to be nice to people if we want them to like us."
"Is Paddy Clonmell your brother?"
"My twin brother, but we're not a bit alike, even in disposition, though we're the best of friends and I adore him. What are you celebrated for, and I'll see if I can't tell you your name; I've heard about most of you."
Cripps blushed.
"I'm afraid I'm not celebrated at all," he said modestly. "I'm only in Upper V.; I don't suppose you've ever heard of me."