“Evan, I shall never understand you,” she said with amusement. “You disapprove of the most harmless people and Mrs. Vachell does more harm than almost anyone at Drage.”
“Now that is so like a woman,” said Evan. “Always running down your own sex if a man praises one of them.”
Evangeline winced under the injustice and her amusement died. “You will give me a sharp tongue some day that I wasn’t born with,” she said hotly. “What I meant was that Mrs. Vachell doesn’t believe in any of the things you are always fighting about, she isn’t kind to people for she doesn’t like them, and Mrs. Carpenter——”
“Don’t mention her,” said Evan. “She’s an awful woman.”
“Yes, I know you can’t stand her any more than you can stand Mrs. Trotter who is a perfectly harmless, common little thing, as good as gold. But Mrs. Carpenter is the solid prop of the whole edifice of what I understand you want people to be and yet you hate her.”
“She’s a humbug,” said Evan, “that’s why.”
“I don’t think Mrs. Vachell believes in anything except brains,” said Evangeline. “That’s her own affair,” he replied. “That is a matter between her and her Maker. All I say is that she behaves like a lady and talks intelligently, without that silly affectation of chaff that spoils most women.”
“She doesn’t work nearly as hard as Mrs. Carpenter,” Evangeline laboured on. She would always take up any cause at a moment’s notice and sacrifice the approval she loved best in her whole-hearted defence.
“Well, keep your opinion and I’ll keep mine,” he said, “I never could help being fond of you, Evangeline, but you do exasperate me sometimes more than I can tell you. I never know whether you deliberately won’t see what I am talking about or whether you can’t.”
“If that is all,” she said contentedly, “I don’t mind. I thought you were angry with me.”