to _him_ only--and only about her grotesque and ugly
self--and told him of all the famous painters who had wanted to
paint her for the last hundred years--it was only then he grew glum
and reserved and depressed and made an unfavorable impression on the
other sex.

What it must have cost him not to express his disgust more frankly!
for reticence on any matter was almost a torture to him.

Most of us have a mental sanctum to which we retire at times,
locking the door behind us; and there we think of high and beautiful
things, and hold commune with our Maker; or count our money, or
improvise that repartee the gods withheld last night, and shake
hands with ourselves for our wit; or caress the thought of some
darling, secret wickedness or vice; or revel in dreams of some
hidden hate, or some love we mustn't own; and curse those we have to
be civil to whether we like them or not, and nurse our little envies
till we almost get to like them.

There we remember all the stupid and unkind things we've ever said
or thought or done, and all the slights that have ever been put on
us, and secretly plan the revenge that never comes off--because time
has softened our hearts, let us hope, when opportunity serves at
last!

That Barty had no such holy of holies to creep into I feel pretty
sure--unless it was the wifely heart of Leah; whatever came into his
head came straight out of his mouth; he had nothing to conceal, and
thought aloud, for all the world to hear; and it does credit, I
think, to the singular goodness and guilelessness of his nature that
he could afford to be so outspoken through life and yet give so
little offence to others as he did. His indiscretion did very little
harm, and his naive self-revelation only made him the more lovable
to those who knew him well.

They were poor creatures, the daws who pecked at that manly heart,
so stanch and warm and constant.

As for Leah, it was easy to see that she looked upon her husband as
a fixed star, and was well pleased to tend and minister and revolve,
and shine with no other light than his; it was in reality an
absolute adoration on her part. But she very cleverly managed to
hide it from him; she was not the kind of woman that makes a doormat
of herself for the man she loves. She kept him in very good order
indeed.

It was her theory that female adoration is not good for masculine
vanity, and that he got quite enough of it outside his own home; and
she would make such