turalness and
carelessness may be only a superior bit of acting? The highest art, you
know, is to imitate nature so close that you can't tell which is which,"
laughed Walsham.

Telfer didn't seem to relish the suggestion, but went on smoking
fiercely.

"Not that I want to speak against the girl," Fred went on; "she's very
amusing, and well enough, I dare say, if she weren't so devilish proud."

"You seem rather inconsistent," said Telfer, impatiently. "First, you
accuse her of being too free, and then blame her for being too
reserved."

Walsham laughed.

"If I'm inconsistent, you're a perfect weathercock. A month ago you were
calling Violet every name you could think of, and now you snap us all
off short if we say a word against her."

Telfer looked haughty enough to extinguish Fred upon the spot; Fred
being a small, lively little chap, with not the slightest dignity about
him.

"I know little or nothing of Miss Tressillian, but as I was the first
to prejudice you all against her, it is only common honor to take her
part when I think her unjustly attacked."

Fred gave me a wink of intense significance, but remonstrated no
further, for Telfer had something of the dark look upon him that our men
knew so well when he led them down to the slaughter at Alma and
Balaklava.

"I tell you," continued the Major, after a little silence, "that I am
disgusted with myself for having listened to whispers and reports, and
believed in them just because they suited the bias of my prejudice. It
didn't matter to me whom my father married, as far as money went, for
beyond 10,000_l._ or so, it must all come in the entail; but I couldn't
endure the idea of his being chiselled by some Becky Sharp or Blanche
Armory, and I made up my mind that the Tressillian was of that genre.
I've changed my opinion now. I don't think she either is an actress or
an intrigante; and I should be a coward indeed if I hesitated to say so,
out of common justice to a young girl who has no one to defend her."

"Bravo, my boy!" said Walsham; "I thought the Tressillian's bright eyes
wouldn't let you hate her long. You're quite right, though 'pon my life
it is really horrid how women contrive to damage each other. If there's
an unlucky girl who has made the best match of the season--she might be
an angel from heaven--her bosom-friends would manage gently to spread
abroad the interesting facts that she's a 'dreadful flirt,' 'has a snub
nose,' is an awful tem