“I am glad to see that you have a generous appreciation of _other_ people’s efforts,” rejoined the young lady sternly. “Ah, well, yes”--stroking his exceedingly faint moustache. “I say, I wonder who will be the belle to-night? Who do you think the prettiest girl in Shirani? I bar the married ladies.” “That _is_ something very novel. Prettiest girl,” she repeated speculatively. “Well, Miss Clover is the most strictly good-looking, her features the most correctly in drawing.” “Yes; only she always looks as if she was dressed up to sit or stand and be stared at, like a wax figure with a label, ‘The public are requested not to touch.’ You could not imagine her playing a hard set of tennis, or riding to hounds, or braving wet weather.” “No”--sarcastically--“I fancy she would ‘come off’ badly.” “Miss Paske is the most lively of the lot. She has such a piquante, wicked little face. On the whole I give her the preference. I like to talk and dance with her, but I funk a _tête-à-tête_ or a long walk, for she is just the sort of girl who would propose for a fellow like a shot.” “I am sure you need not be the least uneasy or afraid of putting temptation in her way,” rejoined Miss Valpy. “_You_ may enjoy her company with impunity. You would not suit her at all, as you are neither rich, good-looking, clever, or, indeed, distinguished for anything but an enormous amount of conceit; and the amusement it affords us is your _only_ redeeming quality.” Mr. Skeggs again stroked his little moustache, blinked his white eyelashes fatuously, and giggled like a girl. “Crushed--not to say squashed,” he groaned. “You admire Miss Paske,” continued the young lady scornfully. “_Just_ what I would have expected of you! Now, in my opinion, she is not to be named in the same hour with Honor Gordon. What lovely eyes she has!” “Yes; Miss Gordon with her fiddle and her figure is hard to beat. As to her eyes--I suppose they have never happened to scorch _you_? She is too stand-off; she is a woman’s girl. To tell you the truth, she frightens me.” “Poor timid little soldier! No doubt you mean that she never flatters you; and I admit that her honest frankness sometimes takes away my breath. However, she does not terrify other men--for instance,” and she paused expressively, “Mr. Jervis.” “No;” pursing up his mouth and raising his eyebrows. “I should not say he _shrank_ from her. And who do you consider the best-looking man in Shirani, Miss Valpy? Your taste is so cultivated.” “Present company always excepted?” with a mocking glance out of the corner of her eye. He nodded with a solemn acquiescence. “Mr. Jervis, of course,” was her promptly off-hand opinion. “Oh, come--I say,” expostulated the youth. “Yes, I will say that he is extremely handsome; not in the big moustache, hooked-nose, bold brigand-style. He has a noble air; the shape of his head, the cast of his features, the expression of his eyes, embody my idea of a hero.”