nest in what she
said.

"I fancy, Violet, that you are nearer to loving him than any other
man."

"I am not at all near to loving any man. I doubt whether I ever shall
be. It does not seem to me to be possible to myself to be what girls
call in love. I can like a man. I do like, perhaps, half a dozen. I
like them so much that if I go to a house or to a party it is quite
a matter of importance to me whether this man or that will or will
not be there. And then I suppose I flirt with them. At least Augusta
tells me that my aunt says that I do. But as for caring about any one
of them in the way of loving him,--wanting to marry him, and have him
all to myself, and that sort of thing,--I don't know what it means."

"But you intend to be married some day," said Lady Laura.

"Certainly I do. And I don't intend to wait very much longer. I am
heartily tired of Lady Baldock, and though I can generally escape
among my friends, that is not sufficient. I am beginning to think
that it would be pleasant to have a house of my own. A girl becomes
such a Bohemian when she is always going about, and doesn't quite
know where any of her things are."

Then there was a silence between them for a few minutes. Violet
Effingham was doubled up in a corner of a sofa, with her feet tucked
under her, and her face reclining upon one of her shoulders. And as
she talked she was playing with a little toy which was constructed
to take various shapes as it was flung this way or that. A bystander
looking at her would have thought that the toy was much more to her
than the conversation. Lady Laura was sitting upright, in a common
chair, at a table not far from her companion, and was manifestly
devoting herself altogether to the subject that was being discussed
between them. She had taken no lounging, easy attitude, she had found
no employment for her fingers, and she looked steadily at Violet as
she talked,--whereas Violet was looking only at the little manikin
which she tossed. And now Laura got up and came to the sofa, and sat
close to her friend. Violet, though she somewhat moved one foot, so
as to seem to make room for the other, still went on with her play.

"If you do marry, Violet, you must choose some one man out of the
lot."

"That's quite true, my dear, I certainly can't marry them all."

"And how do you mean to make the choice?"

"I don't know. I suppose I shall toss up."

"I wish you would be in earnest with me."

"Well;--I will be