Nobody likes hypocrisy, to be sure, but Mrs. Pinckney did not take the trouble to veil her peccadilloes. Easy and indolent as she was, being now thoroughly roused by his thinly-veiled contempt, she endeavored to be disagreeable in her turn. With the most innocent air in the world she exclaimed, "I declare, Dick, I believe you're in love with Miss Featherstone, although you like fair women--" "And she is dark," he interrupted. "Regular features--" "And her dear little nose is slightly _retroussee_; but you cannot deny, Virginia, that she has a most captivating air." "I'm fond of her, but I do not think her captivating." Mrs. Pinckney was now thoroughly out of temper. She was not naturally envious, but she could be roused to envy. "And so you're in love with her?" satirically. "How can I help it?" he returned with a mocking air. "She has magnificent eyes, a bewildering smile: then she has that _je ne sais quoi_, as our foreign friend would say. There is no defining it, there is no assuming it. To conclude, I consider Miss Featherstone dangerously attractive." "Just what I told her you were," returned Mrs. Pinckney, who saw he was trying to tease her, and had recovered by this time her equanimity. In spite of his phlegm he looked interested. "You'd better take care and make no reference to the war, for she is furiously loyal, I can tell you," said Mrs. Pinckney, recalling the conversation. "Since when have you been in love with her?" "From the very first moment I saw her, when she entered the dining-room, her cheeks brilliant from the cold, her lovely eyes, blinded by the light, peering through their long lashes, a little becoming embarrassment in her air as she saw your humble servant--laden down with your bundles, and your children, as usual, clinging to her skirts." "Dick, how disagreeable you are!" and Mrs. Pinckney began to pout again. "We are all her lovers," he maliciously continued--"all the men here--Doctor Harris, Mr. Brown and--" he bowed expressively. "Doctor Harris?" exclaimed his sister-in-law. This defection cut her to the heart. "The day my namesake and godchild, little Dick, was ill I went to the nursery, as in duty bound: you know how fond I am of that child. There was Miss Featherstone, not the nurse, interested and concerned, sitting by the patient. There was Doctor Harris, interested and absorbed with Miss Featherstone. His looks were unmistakable: I saw it at a glance. And as for Mr. Brown, he raves about this 'dear mees' or 'cette chere mademoiselle' by the hour together. She carried his heart by storm the first time he saw her, as she did mine." "How far does your admiration lead you? Do you wish any assistance from me?" "As you please: I am indifferent," he returned, shrugging his shoulders. "Seriously, Virginia--I say this in my character of guardian and adviser-general to the family--I think what you give her is a beggarly pittance in return for all she does, and I suggest that you raise her salary."