o you like Mr. Van?"

This time her interlocutor indeed hung fire. "How can I tell? He dazzles
me."

"But don't you like that?" Then before he could really say: "You're
afraid he may be false?"

At this he fairly laughed. "You go to the point!" She just coloured to
have amused him so, but he quickly went on: "I think one has a little
natural nervousness at being carried off one's feet. I'm afraid I've
always liked too much to see where I'm going."

"And you don't with him?" She spoke with her curious hard interest. "I
understand. But I think I like to be dazzled."

"Oh you've got time--you can come round again; you've a margin for
accidents, for disappointments and recoveries: you can take one thing
with another. But I've only my last little scrap."

"And you want to make no mistakes--I see."

"Well, I'm too easily upset."

"Ah so am I," said Nanda. "I assure you that in spite of what you say
I want to make no mistakes either. I've seen a great many--though you
mightn't think it," she persisted; "I really know what they may be. Do
you like ME?" she brought forth. But even on this she spared him too; a
look appeared to have been enough for her. "How can you say, of course,
already?--if you can't say for Mr. Van. I mean as you've seen him so
much. When he asked me just now if I liked YOU I told him it was too
soon. But it isn't now; you see it goes fast. I DO like you." She gave
him no time to acknowledge this tribute, but--as if it were a matter of
course--tried him quickly with something else. "Can you say if you like
mother?"

He could meet it pretty well now. "There are immense reasons why I
should."

"Yes--I know about them, as I mentioned: mother has told me." But what
she had to put to him kept up his surprise. "Have reasons anything to
do with it? I don't believe you like her!" she exclaimed. "SHE doesn't
think so," she added.

The old man's face at last, partly bewildered, partly reassured, showed
something finer still in the effect she produced. "Into what mysteries
you plunge!"

"Oh we do; that's what every one says of us. We discuss everything and
every one--we're always discussing each other. I think we must be rather
celebrated for it, and it's a kind of trick--isn't it?--that's catching.
But don't you think it's the most interesting sort of talk? Mother says
we haven't any prejudices. YOU have, probably, quantities--and beautiful
ones: so perhaps I oughtn't to tell you. But you'll find out f