“Oh I know that if he deplores me as I am now she would have done so quite as much; in fact probably, as seeing it nearer, a good deal more. She’d have despised me even more than he. But if it’s a question,” Mrs. Brook went on, “of not saying what mamma wouldn’t, how can I know, don’t you see, what she WOULD have said?” Mrs. Brook became as wonderful as if she saw in her friend’s face some admiring reflexion of the fine freedom of mind that--in such a connexion quite as much as in any other--she could always show. “Of course I revere mamma just as much as he does, and there was everything in her to revere. But she was none the less in every way a charming woman too, and I don’t know, after all, do I? what even she--in their peculiar relation--may not have said to him.” Vanderbank’s laugh came back. “Very good--very good. I return to my first idea. Try with him whatever comes into your head. You’re a woman of genius after all, and genius mostly justifies itself. To make you right,” he went on pleasantly and inexorably, “might perhaps be to make you wrong. Since you HAVE so great a charm trust it not at all or all in all. That, I dare say, is all you can do. Therefore--yes--be yourself.” These remarks were followed on either side by the repetition of a somewhat intenser mutual gaze, though indeed the speaker’s eyes had more the air of meeting his friend’s than of seeking them. “I can’t be YOU certainly, Van,” Mrs. Brook sadly brought forth. “I know what you mean by that,” he rejoined in a moment. “You mean I’m hypocritical.” “Hypocritical?” “I’m diplomatic and calculating--I don’t show him how bad I am; whereas with you he knows the worst.” Of this observation Mrs. Brook, whose eyes attached themselves again to Mr. Longdon, took at first no further notice than might have been indicated by the way it set her musing. “‘Calculating’?”--she at last took him up. “On what is there to calculate?” “Why,” said Vanderbank, “if, as you just hinted, he’s a blessing in disguise--! I perfectly admit,” he resumed, “that I’m capable of sacrifices to keep on good terms with him.” “You’re not afraid he’ll bore you?” “Oh yes--distinctly.” “But he’ll be worth it? Then,” Mrs. Brook said as he appeared to assent, “he’ll be worth a great deal.” She continued to watch Mr. Longdon, who, without his glasses, stared straight at the floor while Mr. Cashmore talked to him. She pursued, however, dispassionately enough: “He must be of a narrowness--!” “Oh beautiful!” She was silent again. “I shall broaden him. YOU won’t.” “Heaven forbid!” Vanderbank heartily concurred. “But none the less, as I’ve said, I’ll help you.” Her attention was still fixed. “It will be him you’ll help. If you’re to make sacrifices to keep on good terms with him the first sacrifice will be of me.” Then on his leaving this remark so long unanswered that she had finally looked at him again: “I’m perfectly prepared for it.”