"You and your mother are very kind to that little girl," our hero said;
"you must be a great advantage to her."
Angela Vivian directed her eyes to her neighbors, and let them rest
a while on the young girl's little fidgeting figure and her fresh,
coquettish face. For some moments she said nothing, and to Longueville,
turning over several things in his mind, and watching her, it seemed
that her glance was one of disfavor. He divined, he scarcely knew how,
that her esteem for her pretty companion was small.
"I don't know that I am very kind," said Miss Vivian. "I have done
nothing in particular for her."
"Mr. Wright tells me you came to this place mainly on her account."
"I came for myself," said Miss Vivian. "The consideration you speak of
perhaps had weight with my mother."
"You are not an easy person to say appreciative things to," Bernard
rejoined. "One is tempted to say them; but you don't take them."
The young girl colored as she listened to this observation.
"I don't think you know," she murmured, looking away. Then, "Set it down
to modesty," she added.
"That, of course, is what I have done. To what else could one possibly
attribute an indifference to compliments?"
"There is something else.
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