As an artist, he could not but admire the perfect proportions of the visitor, the strength of him, and the satisfactory equilibrium of forces which showed itself in his whole physical being; but as a gentleman he was repelled by something not easily defined, and as a lover he suspected a rival. He had not much right, indeed, to believe that Fanny Trehearne cared especially for him, any more than to predicate that she was in love with Brinsley. But, being in love himself, he very naturally arrogated to himself such a right without the slightest hesitation, and he boldly asserted in his heart that Brinsley was nothing but a very handsome 'cad,' and that Fanny Trehearne was on the verge of marrying him. The conversation, meanwhile, was lively to the ear, if not to the intelligence. It was amazing to see how the three spinsters flattered their darling at every turn. Miss Cordelia led the chorus of praise, and her sisters, to speak musically, took up the theme, and answer, and counter-theme of the fugue, successively, in many keys. There was nothing that Mr. Brinsley did not know and could not do, according to the three Miss Miners, or if there were anything, it could not be worth knowing or doing. "You'll flatter Mr. Brinsley to death," laughed Fanny, "though I must say that he bears it well." A faint shade of colour rose in Miss Cordelia's pale cheeks, indicative of indignation. "Fanny!" she cried reprovingly. "How rude you are! I'm sure I wasn't saying anything at all flattering." "I only wish people would say such things to me, then!" retorted the young girl. "We're all quite ready to, I'm sure, Miss Trehearne," said Brinsley, smiling in a way that seemed to make his heavy dark mustache retreat outward, up his cheeks, like the whiskers of a cat when it grins. Fanny looked round and met Lawrence's eyes. "You seem to be the only one who is ready," she said, laughing again. "One isn't a crowd, as the little boys say." "Where do you get such expressions, my dear child?" asked Cordelia. "I really think you've learned more slang since you've been here this summer, though I shouldn't have believed it possible!" "There!" exclaimed Fanny, turning to Mr. Brinsley again. "That's the kind of flattery my relatives lavish on me from morning till night! As if you didn't all talk slang, the whole time!" "Fanny!" protested Augusta, whose accomplishments made her sensitive and conscious. "How can you say so?" "Well--dialect, if you like the word better. I'll prove it you. You all say 'won't' and 'shan't'--and most of you say 'I'd like'--for instance--and Mr. Brinsley says 'ain't,' because he's English--" "Well--what ought we to say?" asked Augusta. "Nobody says 'I will not,' and all that."