“No, thank you,” replied Vance, “I am not fond of looking at homeliness. I would rather look at you.”
“Oh, Mr. Gilder, you men are such flatterers! I thought better things of you.”
“And why of me?” asked Vance, teasingly.
“Louise has spoken of you so many’ times,” she replied, “and in such flattering terms, that I was very anxious to meet you. Indeed, I had quite made up my mind that you were different from other men. Let us turn down this way, Mr. Gilder. Let me see—what was I saying? I thought you must be different; but I guess men are all about alike.”
“I feel highly honored,” replied Vance, “to think that Miss Bonifield should have spoken of me at all.”
Bertha stopped and looked at Vance for a moment in silence, and then said:
“Men are so conceited. There is no sentiment, I assure you, in Louise.”
“Your frankness is quite charming, Miss Allen.”
“Oh, do you think so?” said Bertha, with a sweet lisp.
“Yes: and as to Miss Bonifield, I beg to differ from you. She certainly possesses in a high degree that sentiment peculiar to the children of nature. She loves all that is natural, and in the tenderness of her heart, pities the assumed.”