able; and though it's funny to have him talking to me as if I
must have the sympathy of a rich girl with his ideas, it's provoking,
too, and it's very bad for me. Up to the present moment, Fanny, if you
want to know, that's the principal effect of Mr. Arbuton on me. I'm
being gradually snubbed and scared into treasons, stratagems, and
spoils."

Mrs. Ellison did not find all this so very grievous, for she was one of
those women who like a snub from the superior sex, if it does not
involve a slight to their beauty or their power of pleasing. But she
thought it best not to enter into the question, and merely said, "But
surely, Kitty, there are a great many things in Mr. Arbuton that you
must respect."

"Respect? O, yes, indeed! But respect isn't just the thing for one who
seems to consider himself sacred. Say _revere_, Fanny; say revere!"

Kitty had risen from her chair, but Mrs. Ellison waved her again to her
seat with an imploring gesture. "Don't go, Kitty; I'm not half done with
you yet. You _must_ tell me something more. You've stirred me up so,
now. I know you don't always have such disagreeable times. You've often
come home quite happy. What do you generally find to talk about? Do tell
me some particulars for once."

"Why, little topics come up, you know. But sometimes we don't talk at
all, because I don't like to say what I think or feel, for fear I should
be thinking or feeling something vulgar. Mr. Arbuton is rather a blight
upon conversation in that way. He makes you doubtful whether there isn't
something a little common in breathing and the circulation of the blood,
and whether it wouldn't be true refinement to stop them."

"Stuff, Kitty! He's very cultivated, isn't he? Don't you talk about
books? He's read everything, I suppose."

"O yes, he's _read_ enough."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Only sometimes it seems to me as if he hadn't read because he
loved it, but because he thought it due to himself. But maybe I'm
mistaken. I could imagine a delicate poem shutting up half its sweetness
from his cold, cold scrutiny,--if you will excuse the floweriness of the
idea."

"Why, Kitty! don't you think he's refined? I'm sure, I think he's a
_very_ refined person."

"He's a very elaborated person. But I don't think it would make much
difference to him what our opinion of him was. His own good opinion
would be quite enough."

"Is he--is he--always agreeable?"

"I thought we were discussing his mind, Fann