NEVERTHELESS, some curious chance made him see a good deal of Miss Thomas. He was very apt to sit next her at dinner, even if he did not take her in. And whatever she might be, she certainly was not silly. She said very little, it is true; but it occurred to Vane one day that what she did say never placed her in a false or foolish position. Nor had he ever made a remark which she did not fully understand, in its full bearing and implication. Sometimes she affected--particularly if its nature was complimentary--to be wholly unconscious of its meaning; sometimes she would even ask an explanation. But a moment after, she was very apt to say or do some little thing which showed that she had understood it perfectly. Vane, who, in his flippant moods, was rather an adept at conversational fencing, and had flattered himself that very careful ground was quite unnecessary with Miss Thomas, gradually put more attention into his guard and more care in his attack. And when he saw, to continue his own metaphor, that his simple thrusts in quarte and tierce were easily parried and sometimes returned, he began to honor his adversary with a more elaborate attack. But, as he one day acknowledged to himself, though she had rarely touched him, yet he was not sure that he had ever got fairly under her own guard. Altogether, the more he saw of Miss Thomas, the more she interested him; and after the serious struggles of the day, he quite enjoyed his little playful evening encounters with so charming a feminine adversary. For he began to admit to himself that she was charming--there was no doubt of that. And meantime (so he fancied) the intercourse with her happy, simple nature was having a beneficial influence on his own. For the past three years his attitude had been one of stern courage, of self-renunciation. But, after all, why should even he be always shut out from the spring? Flowers still bloomed in the world, summer followed winter, and this pretty little butterfly that fluttered near him might, after all, bring him healthier thoughts from her own air than he found in his morbid life. What a sharp inquisitor is one's own self! What a cross-examiner of hidden motive! And what a still sharper witness is that self under inquisition! Vane never took his young friend seriously; and felt a need of excusing himself for trifling, as he thought. John suddenly asked him, one day, what he thought of Miss Thomas now, and whether he had changed his views at all. "I was very much struck with your first diagnosis," he said. "At a moment's study, you gave the popular opinion of her; that she was gay, shallow, good-humored, and ambitious--and you might have added clever, rather than innocent." Vane was a little displeased.