“No more than most men,” said Janet, quickly.
“Oh, don’t you think so? I think you’ll allow we’ve a different way of setting to work. We do what we can, what we have studied; but you ladies try a little of everything without having studied at all. Miss Harwood has a nice little voice, but no science even in that, and she knows no more of the piano than of the steam-engine. Don’t contradict me, Miss Summerhayes, for I am sure I must know best. I have suffered from it too much.”
“You have no appearance of suffering at all,” said Janet.
“Ah, that’s all my power of dissembling,” he said.
Janet had got her crewels by this time, and she had a vague consciousness that it would be well not to continue this conversation, so she said, “Good-morning!” and was about to pass him on her way home when he put out his hand to detain her.
“Miss Summerhayes, don’t run away. I am going in the same direction. We are prevented from making friends in the evening, but I should not like to let an opportunity slip.”
“Who keeps us from making friends, Mr. Meredith? You are making a great mistake.”
“Am I? If you think you know Gussy Harwood, it is you that are quite mistaken, Miss Summerhayes. How quickly you walk; I can scarcely keep up with you.” He laughed, and took a stride or two which made Janet’s attempt to hurry away ridiculous. “There is no harm in walking along the same pavement, even with a person you disapprove of.”
“I don’t disapprove of—any one,” said Janet.
“Oh, that is more than I bargained for. You must promise to play for me to-night.”