"You told me to yourself, Mr. Linchmore. You surely cannot have forgotten it; and besides, we promised to treat her more as a young friend than as a governess." "True," he replied. "I now regret we ever gave such a promise. It would be far better for Miss Neville, for although we treat her as a friend, who amongst our numerous acquaintances will? They do not know her as we do, and will simply treat her as a governess, nothing more. I neither like Miss Strickland's apparent haughtiness, which amounts to rudeness, or Vavasour's attentions, which almost amount to a flirtation with her." "The first is unaccountable to me; but the latter--what harm can there be in that?" replied Mrs. Linchmore. "To Miss Neville there might be harm. She might lose her heart to him, for she is no flirt; _he is_," said he, decidedly, and his wife could not attempt to contradict him, "and would as soon break her heart as not; perhaps be a little proud of it, and certainly think less about it than he would at breaking his horse's neck in leaping a fence." "You are very uncharitable." "Not at all. My opinion is, Vavasour intends getting up a flirtation with Miss Neville, just to pass the time away; perhaps you had better see to it, Isabella, and try and give her a hint. You could easily do it, without appearing to have noticed his attentions to her." "The very way to make her fall desperately in love with him; women always do with those they hear abused--our hearts are so pitiful. Much better let her do as she likes, she has plenty of sense." "As you will, Isabella; but I must not see her feelings trifled with; there is nothing half so sad as to love without return--hopelessly." And again he turned his face, and looked sorrowfully at his wife, as if expecting or longing for some slight mark of affection; but she gave none, and rising slowly, he went out. Mrs. Linchmore was once more alone. The preceding conversation, at least the latter part of it, had been entirely to her satisfaction. It must not be supposed she had been a blind spectator to Vavasour's attentions to Amy. She had heard of the first walk from Frances, she had seen the second, and imagined that, perhaps, having remarked the looks with which, once or twice, Mr. Linchmore had watched his attentions to herself, he had had recourse to a ruse-de-guerre, and now flirted with the governess, as the most harmless girl he could pick out, whilst all his looks, all his _petits soins_, were directed and given to _her_. She laughed at the idea of outwitting her husband; not that she cared for Vavasour, but the flirting spirit was strong and powerful within. Old memories and associations, instead of softening had only hardened her present life, and made her look back more regretfully to the past, more hopelessly and bitterly to the future.