But his visit was short; before three o'clock he was again at the eyrie. "I think you had better go down," he said to Margaret, as soon as he could speak to her unheard. "She is taking it most unreasonably; she is crying almost convulsively, and listens to nothing. So far, Mrs. Carew thinks it the old grief for her mother; a revival. But she won't think so long; for Garda, you know, never conceals anything; as soon as she is a little calmer she will be sure to say something that will let out the whole." "You do not want it known?" "I thought we were agreed about that. How can any one who cares for the girl want it known? It's so"--he hesitated for a word, and then fell back upon the useful old one--"so childish," he repeated. "I will go down, then," said Margaret. "The sooner the better. I hope that you will be able to bring her to reason." "But if you didn't--" "I didn't because I lost my temper a little. It seemed to me that the time had come to speak to her plainly." "Plainly generally means severely. I think severity will never have much effect upon Garda; if you are severe, you will only lose your influence." "My influence!--I don't know that I have any. What is your idea of Edgarda Thorne?" he said, suddenly. "I don't know that I have ever asked you. Very likely you won't tell." "I will tell exactly, so far as I know it myself--my idea," replied Margaret. "One cannot have a very definite idea of a girl of sixteen." "I beg your pardon; to me she seems a remarkably definite person." "She is, in one way. I think she is very warm-hearted. I think she is above petty things; I have never seen any girl who went so little into details. Mentally, I think her very clever, though she is also indolent. Her frankness would be the most remarkable thing about her were it not for her beauty, which is more remarkable still; it is her beauty, I think, that makes her, young as she is, so 'definite,' as you call it." "We seem to have much the same idea of her," said Winthrop. "I shouldn't have thought it possible," he added. "That we should agree in anything?" said Margaret, with a faint smile. "No, not that; but a woman so seldom has the same idea of another woman that a man has. And--if you will allow me to say it--I think the man's idea often the more correct one, for a woman will betray (confide, if you like the term better) more of her inner nature, her real self, to a man, when she knows him well and likes him, than she ever will to any woman, no matter how well she may know and like her." Margaret concurred in this. "So you agree with me there too? Another surprise! What I have said is true enough, but women generally dispute it."