Page:Elizabeth's Pretenders.djvu/190

Baring was not in good form. He certainly is not an amiable man; he was once or twice almost rude to Mr. George. Neither was Hatty in very good temper. Dear Hatty! Her health is sufficient excuse for her; and I don't mind her snapping my head off now and then, for I am really fond of her. Indeed, I am sure I never liked any woman so much before. But now and then she is captious, and she has been so during these four days. Perhaps this is enough to account for my not having enjoyed myself as much as I expected. Mr. George was very pleasant; I don't know how I should have got on without him. He has a temper that would turn sour milk sweet again, and like the man in Chevalier's song, he has 'no airs nor affect-ai-tions'! He seems straightforward, and clean inside and out. Why is it that he doesn't interest me more? Because, like his face, he is too pink and spotless? I should be sorry to think I had any proclivity to grime. No, it is not that. He is by no means insipid and soapy. He is, on the contrary, clever and lively, self-controlled, self-sufficing—too self-sufficing: that is it. I cannot imagine his ever falling in love; though I am not sure he would not like me to believe him capable of it. All men, or nearly all, are alike. They flirt with every girl they meet; heart has nothing to say to it. The grim American is an exception; no one can accuse him of wanting to flirt. If he did, I doubt if I should respect and admire him as much as I do. Such is the contradiction of woman's nature—of my nature, at all events. Mr. B. is the only man who ever intimidates me, until I get provoked. Then I say something tart and impertinent, which I regret the next moment. His look