He hesitated a trifle, and then replied, “Well, it sort of knocks all the excuses out of a fellow’s life.”
“Certainly,” laughed Anne. “She doesn’t pet her moods,” and she concluded that there was something in the ruddy gentleman, who looked so pleased at what he had said.
“I have known her under many circumstances,” said Mrs. Lyndsay, “and I doubt if she has any moods.”
“I rather suspect,” said Lyndsay, “that Mrs. Maybrook’s equality of temper is partly natural, and partly a singularly intelligent acquired capacity to make the best of her surroundings.”
“Environment,” said Ned, under his breath, and now satisfied.
“Really, Rose knows more about her than even my wife, who has known her longer; but Rose has a curious way of getting at people, and I have seldom seen Rose so carried away by any one.”
“I envy people the power of understanding people on short acquaintance. I like everybody at first, and then, by and by, I have to change my mind. Now, Carington—”
“Nonsense!” cried his friend.
“Indeed!” exclaimed Anne. She thought Mr. Ellett oddly frank.
“From all I can hear,” said Carington, “Mrs. Maybrook must be a kind of female Marcus Aurelius.” This was quite too much for the boys, who began to laugh; and then, as Lyndsay and his wife followed their example, Miss Anne felt obliged to explain, in her amusing way, why this remark had so unaccountably disturbed the nerves of the household. Lyndsay defended himself with seriousness. As they rose to have their cigars outside, Ned said: