‘Well, I certainly never could see the use of learning it—for me, at any rate,’ said Otho. ‘But I mean, didn’t you go in for French, and music, and those things?’ ‘Well, I should hardly ask such a question as that. One “goes in,” as you call it, for French as naturally as for English. Aunt Emily always had some French person or other about. But Greek was a labour of love.’ ‘It seems to me that you must be what they call a blue,’ said Otho, vaguely. ‘Does it? I’m not conscious of being of a different complexion from other young women. Aunt Emily, poor dear, thought the reverse. She considered that I was brought up too much with Paul, and altogether too like a boy. She always said that if I had mixed more with girls I should have been more alive to—oh, well, she thought it would have been better for me.’ ‘She thought that if you had been a bit more like other girls, you wouldn’t have let that parson slip, but would have married him instead of coming rambling off here, where you don’t know a creature, and have to pass your time reading the “Iliad”; and I can tell you I agree with her,’ said Otho. ‘Let him slip? I never tried to catch him,’ said Miss Askam, touchy, despite her masculine education, upon this point. ‘I never said you did,’ remarked Otho. ‘However, I’m glad you are intellectual and independent, for now I need not apologise for leaving you alone. I’m going away this evening.’ ‘Are you? Where?’ ‘Oh, over into Friarsdale, on business. I don’t know when I shall be back. Some time before Christmas, of course, because Gilbert will be here then. You’ll have to do as well as you can.’ ‘I shall do very well, thank you. I shall return a few of those numerous calls I have received. I like some of the people very much. I don’t think they look so dangerous as you seemed to think them. But, of course, tastes differ. And on the first fine day I intend to have a ride.’ ‘I liked him very much when I had him before.... Isn’t evening an odd time to be setting off on a journey? Where is this Friarsdale that you speak of?’ ‘Oh, I shall only go to Darlington to-night, and put up with a fellow I know there. Then I shall drive on into Friarsdale to-morrow.’ He still had not told her where it was, she noticed, nor what he wanted there. She was not going to ask again, and in a short time Otho said he must be off, wished her good afternoon, and departed. He had gone in intending to recommend her to cultivate Miss Wynter’s society, but the conversation which had taken place had caused him to abandon this design. ‘Magdalen and she will never get on. I shall leave them both to it. It’s plain to me that Eleanor is no fool in some things, whatever she may be in others; but I verily believe she’d sooner have old Lady Winthrop for a chum, or one of those charity-blanket Blundell girls, than Magdalen.’ In which surmise Otho was perfectly correct. ‘It’s a rum sort of thing altogether,’ he reflected. ‘I shall ask Gilbert what he thinks about it.’