"And yet, actually, I believe, on that account, you seem to dislike me more and more."
"I do assure you, Mrs. Lamb, that you are wrong. I do hope I'm not the blackguard you seem to imagine."
"I am not wrong, Mr. Talfourd--in a matter of that sort I seldom am. And you're not a blackguard; you're altogether the other way. It's a case of Dr. Fell--the reason why you don't like me you cannot tell. It's not your fault at all--it's sort of congenital. Don't worry! But that being so, since I have already done you one or two good turns, it would be delightful to be able to do you a crowning good turn--to make your fortune; to make you the most successful man of the day--you, the only man I ever met who really did, and does, dislike me.
"Mrs. Lamb, I--I can't tell you how you make me feel."
"I wouldn't try."
He did not. She looked at him and smiled, while he stood before her, with flushed cheeks and downcast eyes, like some shamefaced schoolboy.
[CHAPTER XVI]
MARGARET IS PUZZLED
Miss Dorothy Johnson, balancing herself on the edge of the table, was playing catch-ball with a pair of gloves.
"Margaret Wallace, you're one of the sillies!"