hat in particular is it," he said, "that strikes you so?"

"I think," I answered, "it is the harmony of the whole effect."

"A thorough-bred woman always produces an harmonious effect," he said.

Something in his tone jarred me, and I said hastily, "I don't think
development should be sacrificed to harmony: incompleteness is better
than perfection sometimes."

He smiled sweetly: "Yes, but I am afraid we should hardly agree about
the development of women, though I should like to hear you talk of
it."

"Why should we not discuss and disagree?"

"I do not like to disagree with a woman at all, especially with a
woman whom I admire," he said, bending his blue eyes on me with a look
such as I had never seen before in a man's eyes. It was what I
suppose would be called a chivalric look; and yet chivalry was only an
improved barbarism.

Mrs. Fordyce came up just then, and introduced some gentlemen to me;
and while they were talking Mr. Lawrence turned away. In a few
moments he was back again with a lovely-looking young girl on his arm,
blushing and yet self-possessed, with the same exquisite simplicity
of manner he has himself. "My cousin Alice Wilton asks me to introduce
her to you, Miss Linton," he said.

I have always--shall I confess it?--patted young girls on the head:
this one I could no more have patronized than I could a statue of
Diana. She was very charming to look at as she stood beside her
cousin, and yet--No, I will make no exception: she was charming in
every way, and I felt more at my ease that a woman had been presented
to me.

Mr. Lawrence put me in my carriage. As he closed the door he said,
"Your maid is not with you?"

I replied that I had none; on which he said to the driver, "Drive
slowly: I mean to walk as far as the hotel with the carriage."

"Won't you get in?" I cried from the window.

He seemed not to hear me, but started off at a rapid pace, and I gave
up the attempt, wondering at what seemed to me an eccentric choice. It
was unnecessary for him to go with me at all, but I thought, "He
has been, I suppose, brought up to think no woman can take care of
herself." He was ready to open the door as I got out, and I longed to
ask him why he had not driven with me; but I hesitated: something tied
my tongue, and in a moment he had said "Good-night," and was gone with
hasty steps into the darkness. I must stop, I am so tired.

_December_ 3. It seems to me I am growing to be a dreadful egotist.