Now he gazed after her until the small hat with its waving scarlet feather was scarcely distinguishable in the distance; yet fearless as she was, he could not allow there was anything at all masculine about her; no, the proud bend of the head, the small pliant figure forbade that, yet still he was not altogether satisfied; there was a something wanting, something that did not please him; and then involuntarily, his thoughts wandered towards Miss Neville again. "She takes the shine out of us all, does not she?" asked Julia, who had advanced unperceived to his side. "Is that what you were so deep in thought about?" "Not exactly. She does skate admirably, it is true; but I was thinking if Lawless, a friend of mine could but see her, he would lose his heart in no time. She is just the sort of woman he is always raving about." "Oh, ask him down by all means, and let him go mad if it pleases him, so long as we get rid of Frances." "That speech savours of jealousy or rivalry. Which is it, Julia?" "Neither the one nor the other." "She is a girl many women would fear as a rival." "Nonsense, Charles; she is so different to most women, so proud, and as cold as the ice she is skating on. If I were a man, I could not fall in love with Frances." "Why not? She may be a little cold and proud perhaps, but that would only entail a little more trouble in winning her, and make her love the more valued when won." "If she has any love to win. I doubt it; she is so utterly cold-hearted." "I see nothing to find fault with on the score of coldness; few girls now-a-days--though not absolutely cold-hearted--have hearts worth the having, or wooing and winning." "How bitter you are against us." "Not more so than you were yourself. Did you not call Frances a petrifaction?" said he, laughing. "But, if Frances does not please you, who, may I ask, comes nearer perfection in your eyes?" "Oh! lots of women. She and Miss Neville, for instance, ought not to be named in the same breath together." Then, as Charles made no reply, she added, "I wonder if she skates?" "Skates! Pshaw! she would be afraid to trust that dainty foot of hers on the slippery ice. I hate a woman with no nerve, afraid of her own shadow." "If being an accomplished skater is the only proof of a woman's nerve and courage, what a set of cowards more than half our sex must be! I very much doubt if one in a dozen of us are acquainted with the art." "Well, if not, you are well up in a dozen and one others wherewith to drive us poor men out of our seven senses at times." "I know what is the matter with him now," thought Julia; "and why he is so cross, some girl he cares for has been paying him out. I hope it is not Frances. I cannot bear the idea of his having fallen in love with her, although I strongly suspected he was on the high road to it last night." "Uncle Charles," said a small voice, while a tiny hand was laid on his arm, "I should so like to have a slide."