e
whole, perhaps, fortunate for Middleton.

Mrs. Thorne, not having succeeded in obtaining "definite" information
from the Rev. Mr. Moore, addressed herself, at length, to Evert
Winthrop. Something that was almost a friendship had established itself
between these two; Mrs. Thorne found Winthrop very "satisfying," she
mentioned that she found him so; she mentioned it to Margaret Harold,
with whom, also, she now had an acquaintance which was almost intimate,
though in this case the intimacy had been formed and kept up principally
by herself. "Yes, extremely satisfying," she repeated; "on every subject
of importance he has definite information, or a definite opinion, and
these he gives you--when you ask for them--with the utmost clearness.
Touch him anywhere," continued the lady, tapping her delicately starched
handkerchief (which she held up for the purpose) with her little
knuckle, "anywhere, I say," she went on, still tapping, "and--he
_resounds_."

"Dear me, mamma! is he hollow?" said Garda, while Margaret gave way to
laughter. But Mrs. Thorne liked even Margaret's laughs; Margaret too she
found "very satisfying," she said.

When she spoke to Winthrop about Lucian Spenser, however, she found him
perhaps not so satisfying as usual.

"I know nothing whatever about Mr. Spenser," he answered.

"We are seeing a good deal of him at present," remarked the little
mother, in a conversational tone, ignoring his reply. "It's rather
better--don't you think so?--to know something--_definite_--of those one
is seeing a good deal of?"

"That is the way to learn, isn't it--seeing a good deal of them?"
Winthrop answered.

Mrs. Thorne coughed in her most discreet manner, and looked about the
room for a moment or two. Then, "Do _you_ like him, Mr. Winthrop?" she
said, her eyes on the opposite wall.

"My dear lady, what has that got to do with it?"

"Much," responded Mrs. Thorne, modestly dropping her eyes to the carpet.
"A man's opinion of a man, you know, may be quite different from a
woman's."

"There is his cousin, Mr. Moore."

"I have already asked Mr. Moore; he knows only Mr. Spenser's
grandfathers," replied Mrs. Thorne, dismissing the clergyman, as
informant, with a wave of her dry little hand.

"Dr. Kirby, then."

"Dr. _Kirby_" said the lady, with an especial emphasis on the name, as
though there were a dozen other doctors in Gracias--"Dr. _Kirby_ speaks
well of Mr. Spenser. But we should not count too much upon t