with a man, who could just as well go by himself? Do men match
silks?"

"Of course they do. Any fly-fisher can do it better than a woman.
Really, Nell, you have an odious imagination."

"Yes--when my imagination is started on an odious track. Nothing will
persuade me that Marmaduke cares a straw for Constance. He does not want
to marry her, though he is too great a coward to own it."

"Why do you say so? I grant you he is unceremonious and careless. But he
is the same to everybody."

"Yes: to everybody _we_ know. What is the use of straining after an
amiable view of things, Marian, when a cynical view is most likely to be
the true one."

"There is no harm in giving people credit for being good."

"Yes, there is, when people are not good, which is most often the case.
It sets us wrong practically, and holds virtue cheap. If Marmaduke is a
noble and warmhearted man, and Constance a lovable, innocent girl, all I
can say is that it is not worth while to be noble or lovable. If
amiability consists in maintaining that black is white, it is a quality
anyone may acquire by telling a lie and sticking to it."

"But I dont maintain that black is white. Only it seems to me that as
regards white, you are color blind. Where I see white, you see black;
and----hush! Here is Constance."

"Yes," whispered Elinor: "she comes back quickly enough when it occurs
to her that we are talking about her."

Instead of simply asking why Constance should not behave in this very
natural manner if she chose to, Marian was about to defend Constance
warmly by denying all motive to her return, when that event took place
and stopped the discussion. Marian and Nelly spent a considerable part
of their lives in bandying their likes and dislikes under the impression
that they were arguing important points of character and conduct.

They knew that Constance wanted to answer Marmaduke's letter; so they
alleged correspondence of their own, and left her to herself.

Lady Constance went to her brother's study, where there was a
comfortable writing-table. She began to write without hesitation, and
her pen gabbled rapidly until she had covered two sheets of paper,
when, instead of taking a fresh sheet, she wrote across the lines
already written. After signing the letter, she read it through, and
added two postscripts. Then she remembered something she had forgotten
to say; but there was no more room on her two sheets, and she was
reluctant to use a thir