Page:The Last Chronicle of Barset Vol 2.djvu/384

348 "What did I say;—jolly as a sandboy? There is nothing wrong in that. What I meant was, that I think that this world is a very good sort of world, and that a man can get along in it very well, if he minds his ps and qs."

"But suppose it's a woman?"

"Easier still."

"And suppose she does not mind her ps and qs?"

"Women always do."

"Do they? Your knowledge of women goes as far as that, does it? Tell me fairly;—do you think you know anything about women?" Madalina as she asked the question, looked full into his face, and shook her locks and smiled. When she shook her locks and smiled, there was a certain attraction about her of which John Eames was fully sensible. She could throw a special brightness into her eyes, which, though it probably betokened nothing truly beyond ill-natured mischief, seemed to convey a promise of wit and intellect.

"I don't mean to make any boast about it," said Johnny.

"I doubt whether you know anything. The pretty simplicity of your excellent Lily Dale has sufficed for you."

"Never mind about her," said Johnny impatiently.

"I do not mind about her in the least. But an insight into that sort of simplicity will not teach you the character of a real woman. You cannot learn the flavour of wines by sipping sherry and water. For myself I do not think that I am simple. I own it fairly. If you must have simplicity, I cannot be to your taste."

"Nobody likes partridge always," said Johnny laughing.

"I understand you, sir. And though what you say is not complimentary, I am willing to forgive that fault for its truth. I don't consider myself to be always partridge, I can assure you. I am as changeable as the moon."

"And as fickle?"

"I say nothing about that, sir. I leave you to find that out. It is a man's business to discover that for himself. If you really do know aught of women"

"I did not say that I did."

"But if you do, you will perhaps have discovered that a woman may be as changeable as the moon, and yet as true as the sun;—that she may flit from flower to flower, quite unheeding while no passion exists, but that a passion fixes her at once. Do you believe me?" Now she looked into his eyes again, but did not smile and did not shake her locks.