"If she has any love to win. I doubt it; she is so utterly cold-hearted."
"I see nothing to find fault with on the score of coldness; few girls now-a-days—though not absolutely cold-hearted—have hearts worth the having, or wooing and winning."
"How bitter you are against us."
"Not more so than you were yourself. Did you not call Frances a petrifaction?" said he, laughing. "But, if Frances does not please you, who, may I ask, comes nearer perfection in your eyes?"
"Oh! lots of women. She and Miss Neville, for instance, ought not to be named in the same breath together."
Then, as Charles made no reply, she added, "I wonder if she skates?"
"Skates! Pshaw! she would be afraid to trust that dainty foot of hers on the slippery ice. I hate a woman with no nerve, afraid of her own shadow."
"If being an accomplished skater is the only proof of a woman's nerve and courage, what a set of cowards more than half our sex must be! I very much doubt if one in a dozen of us are acquainted with the art."
"Well, if not, you are well up in a dozen and one others wherewith to drive us poor men out of our seven senses at times."
"I know what is the matter with him now," thought Julia; "and why he is so cross, some girl he cares for has been paying him out. I hope it is not Frances. I cannot bear the idea of his having fallen in love with her, although I strongly suspected he was on the high road to it last night."