infirmities helped to make him, perceived it in a moment, and resented the neglect, which of course he attributed to our envy of her perfections. Then we tried artifice instead, and Clara, sister of the victim, got up a very warm sudden regard for the enchantress, whose opinion she sought upon everything; but this Miss Reredos speedily discovered, exposed, and exulted in; there was no help for it--the damage which was done, was done, and could not be repaired. Meanwhile the flirtation with Maurice did not advance so satisfactorily--he was so much accustomed to admire himself, that the habit of admiring another came slowly to him; and then, as Miss Reredos took the initiative, and did not spare to be cleverly rude to the young man, he, taking advantage of his privileges, was cleverly rude to her in reply, from which fashionable mode of beginning, they advanced by degrees to closer friendship, or, at least, familiarity of address. Alice looked on at all this with the most solemn disapproval--it was amusing to see the dead gravity of her glances towards them, the tacit displeasure, and shame, and resentment on account of “her sex!” Poor Alice took the responsibility on her own shoulders; she watched the levity of the other girl, who did not resemble herself in a single particular, with a solemn sense of being involved in it, which struck me as the oddest comicality I had seen. Could anybody suppose Maurice Harley concerned about another man’s shortcomings, only because the culprit was a man, and one of his own _sex_? If it had not been so entirely true and sincere, it would have been absurd--this championship of Alice; only women ever dream of such an _esprit de corps_--but she maintained it with such absolute good faith and solemn gravity, that while one laughed one loved her the better. There she sat, severe in her youthful virtue, gravely believing herself old, and past the period of youth, but in her heart as high-flying, as obstinate, as heroical as if she were seventeen. Mrs. Clara knew nothing of that romance; perhaps there are delicate touches of feminine character, which only show themselves to perfection in the “unmarried woman”--the woman who has come to maturity without having the closer claims of husband and children to charm her out of her thoughts and theories--though it is only in a very gracious subject that such an example as Alice Harley could be produced. CHAPTER IX. “Well, really!” said little Mrs. Sedgwick, bridling with offended virtue, “I don’t think I am very hard upon a little innocent flirting--sometimes, you know, there’s no harm in it--and young people will amuse themselves; but _really_, Mrs. Crofton, _that_ Miss Reredos is quite ridiculous. I do wonder for my part how men can be so taken in!--and our Maurice who is so clever!--and she is not even pretty--if she had been pretty one could have understood.”