Nobody

Her brother! thought Lois as she went off. Mr. Dillwyn, her brother!

I don't believe she likes Madge and me to know him.

Meanwhile Mr. and Mrs. Chauncey Burrage drove away in silence for a fewminutes; then the lady broke out.

"There's mischief there, Chauncey!"

"What mischief?" the gentleman asked innocently.

"Those girls."

"Very handsome girls. At least the one that was visible."

"The other's worse. I saw her. The one you saw is handsome; but theother is peculiar. She is rare. Maybe not just so handsome, but morerefined; and peculiar. I don't know just what it is in her; but shefascinated me. Masses of auburn hair – not just auburn – more of a goldentint than brown – with a gold reflet, you know, that is so lovely; anda face – "

"Well, what sort of a face?" asked Mr. Burrage, as his spouse paused.

"Something between a baby and an angel, and yet with a sort of sybillook of wisdom. I believe she put one of Domenichino's sybils into myhead; there's that kind of complexion – "

"My dear," said the gentleman, laughing, "you could not tell whatcomplexion she was of. She was in a shady corner."

"I was quite near her. Now that sort of thing might just catch Philip."

"Well," said the gentleman, "you cannot help that."

"I don't know if I can or no!"

"Why should you want to help it, after all?"

"Why? I don't want Philip to make a mis-match."

"Why should it be a mis-match?"

"Philip has got too much money to marry a girl with nothing."

Mr. Burrage laughed. His wife demanded to know what he was laughing at?and he said "the logic of her arithmetic."

"You men have no more logic in action, than we women have inspeculation. I am logical the other way."

"That is too involved for me to follow. But it occurs to me to ask, Whyshould there be any match in the case here?"

"That's so like a man! Why shouldn't there? Take a man like my brother, who don't know what to do with himself; a man whose eye and ear arerefined till he judges everything according to a standard ofbeauty; – and give him a girl like that to look at! I said she remindedme of one of Domenichino's sybils – but it isn't that. I'll tell youwhat it is. She is like one of Fra Angelico's angels. Fancy Philip setdown opposite to one of Fra Angelico's angels in flesh and blood!"

"Can a man do better than marry an angel?"

"Yes! so long as he is not an angel himself, and don't live in

Paradise."

"They do not marry in Paradise," said Mr. Burrage dryly. "But why afellow may not get as near a paradisaical condition as he can, with thedrawback of marriage, and in this mundane sphere, – I do not see."

"Men never see anything till afterwards. I don't know anything aboutthis girl, Chauncey, except her face. But it is just the way with men,to fall in love with a face. I do not know what she is, only she isnobody; and Philip ought to marry somebody. I know where they are from.She has no money, and she has no family; she has of course no breeding; she has probably no education, to fit her for being his wife. Philipought to have the very reverse of all that. Or else he ought not tomarry at all, and let his money come to little Phil Chauncey."

"What are you going to do about it?" asked the gentleman, seemingamused.

But Mrs. Burrage made no answer, and the rest of the drive, long as itwas, was rather stupid.

CHAPTER XLII

RULES

The next day Mr. Dillwyn came to take Madge to see Brett's Collectionof Paintings. Mrs. Wishart declared herself not yet up to it. Madgecame home in a great state of delight.

"It was so nice!" she explained to her sister; "just as nice as itcould be. Mr. Dillwyn was so pleasant; and told me everything and abouteverything; about the pictures, and the masters; I shouldn't have knownwhat anything meant, but he explained it all. And it was such fun tosee the people."

"The people!" said Lois.

"Yes. There were a great many people; almost a crowd; and it did amuse me to watch them."

"I thought you went to see the paintings."

"Well, I saw the paintings; and I heard more about them than I can everremember."

"What was there?"

"O, I can't tell you. Landscapes and landscapes; and then HolyFamilies; and saints in misery, of one sort or another; andbattle-pieces, but those were such confusion that all I could make outwas horses on their hind-legs; and portraits. I think it is nonsensefor people to try to paint battles; they can't do it; and, besides, asfar as the fighting goes, one fight is just like another. Mr. Dillwyntold me of a travelling showman, in Germany, who travelled about withthe panorama of a battle; and every year he gave it a new name, thename of the last battle that was in men's mouths; and all he had to dowas to change the uniforms, he said. He had a pot of green paint forthe Prussians, and red for the English, and blue, I believe, for theFrench, and so on; and it did just as well."

"What did you see that you liked best?"

"I'll tell you. It was a little picture of kittens, in and out of abasket. Mr. Dillwyn didn't care about it; but I thought it was theprettiest thing there. Mrs. Burrage was there."

"Was she?"

"And Mr. Dillwyn does know more than ever anybody else in the world, Ithink. O, he was so nice, Lois! so nice and kind. I wouldn't have givena pin to be there, if it hadn't been for him. He wouldn't let me gettired; and he made everything amusing; and O, I could have sat theretill now and watched the people."

"The people! If the pictures were good, I don't see how you could haveeyes for the people."

"'The proper study of mankind is man,' my dear; and I like them alivebetter than painted. It was fun to see the dresses; and then the ways.How some people tried to be interested – "

"Like you?"

"What do you mean? I was interested; and some talked and flirted, andsome stared. I watched every new set that came in. Mr. DilIwyn says hewill come and take us to the Philarmonic, as soon as the performancesbegin."

"Madge, it is better for us to go with Mrs. Wishart."

"She may go too, if she likes."

"And it is better for us not to go with Mr. DilIwyn, more than we canhelp."