"It may be that you are right," I answered. "Society is getting on
famously. But what is it you want to ask me?"
"Simply this," she replied. "What is it which interests you so much in
Mrs. Chester?"
I looked at her in astonishment. "Truly," I exclaimed, "that is a
remarkable question."
"I know it," she replied, "and I suppose you are saying to yourself,
'Here is a girl who has known me less than three days, and yet she
asks me to tell her about my feeling towards another woman.' But,
really, it seems to me that as you have not known that other woman
three days, as much friendship and confidence might spring up in the
one case as affection in the other."
"Affection!" said I. "Have I said anything about affection?"
"No, you have not," she replied; "and if there isn't any affection, of
course that ends this special study on my part."
We reached the top of the hill, but I forgot to look out upon the
view. "I think you are a strange girl," I said, "but I like you, and I
have a mind to try to answer your question. I have not been able quite
to satisfy myself about my feelings towards Mrs. Chester, but now I
think I can say that I have an affection for her."
"Good!" she exclaimed. "I like that! That is an honest answer if ever
there was one. But tell me why it is that you have an affection for
her. It must have been almost a case of love at first sight."
"It isn't easy to give reasons for such feelings," I said. "They
spring up, as your father would say, very much like weeds."
"Indeed they do," she interpolated; "sometimes they grow in the middle
of a gravel path where they cannot expect to be allowed to stay."
I reflected a moment. "I don't mind talking about these things to
you," I said. "It seems almost like talking to myself."
"That is a compliment I appreciate," she said. "And now go on. Why do
you care for her?"
"Well," said I, "in the first place, she is very handsome. Don't you
think so?"
"Oh yes! In fact, I think she is almost what might be called exactly
beautiful."
"Then she has such charming manners," I continued. "And she is so
sensible--although you may not think I had much chance to find out
that. Moreover, there is a certain sympathetic cordiality about her--"
"Which, of course," interrupted my companion, "you suppose she would
not show to any man but you."
"Yes," said I. "I am speaking honestly now, and that's the way it
strikes me. Of course I may be a fool, but I did think that a sympathy
had arisen between us which would not arise between her and anybody
else."