I was silent while I stood for a few seconds regarding him closely. I wondered if he had not taken special pains with his toilet; for I had never seen him look so regally handsome before. He may have detected my admiring gaze; for he said, lightly:
"What is wrong, that you favor me with such scrutinizing glances?"
"There is nothing wrong, Mr. Winthrop, so far as my eyes can penetrate. I trust that to clearer vision than mine what lies deeper than human gaze can pierce, is equally perfect."
"Is it your custom, little one, to pay your male acquaintances such open compliments?"
"It was not a compliment. I only spoke the truth," I said, quietly, as we walked side by side down the lilac-bordered footpath, the way we always went to church when we walked, as it cut off a-half mile or more. It was a charming walk in summer; but now the low bushes looked common and ungraceful, stripped of their foliage; but the ground was high, and over their tops we could see the distant hills and the sun-kissed sea. And this morning as I tripped lightly by my guardian's side, I fancied I had never seen this quiet pathway even in its midsummer glory look so perfect.
"It is a wise plan not to tell your friends the truth always. Masculine vanity is occasionally as strongly developed as feminine," he said after we had gone some time in silence.
"But you are not vain, Mr. Winthrop; I never saw any one so free from it," I said, gravely.
"You are determined to overwhelm me with your flattery. We must change our conversational topics altogether."
"First, let me ask if flattery is not half-sister to falsehood?"
"Probably they are pretty closely related; but why are you anxious to get that matter settled?"