“I was brought up in the belief that when men were bad—of course I mean very bad indeed—their wicked qualities rarely failed to make themselves apparent in their looks, or their manner, or—or in some other way, so that people of even ordinary discernment could be on their guard against them and not credit them with virtues they could lay no claim to. But Mr. Keymer had always such a pleasant, smiling, indeed, I might almost say fascinating way with him, that it seems difficult to connect him in one’s thoughts with the actions of which we are now assured he was guilty.” Miss Jane spoke a little plaintively, like one who had lost another of the few illusions which advancing years had left her. “I am afraid, sister,” answered Miss Matilda, “that this notion of bad people having, as it were, the trade-mark of their evil natures stamped upon them for everybody to see, like many other of the traditions which one picks up in childhood, fails utterly when put to the proof. Mr. Keymer had certainly very pleasant manners and could make himself most agreeable. Yet we have it on Shakespeare’s authority that a man ‘may smile, and smile, and yet be a villain.’” Ethel had not been present while the foregoing conversation took place. After imparting to her aunts everything told her by Miss Blair, she had gone to her own room to write the letter which, a little later, was received and opened by Mr. Keymer in his son’s absence. She now came back with the letter open in her hand, and going up to Miss Matilda, said: “Here is what I have written, dear aunt. Please to read it and tell me whether it is quite what you would like me to say.” Miss Matilda took the letter in silence, and when she had read it passed it on to her sister. Miss Jane having read it, also in silence, returned it to her sister, who then cleared her voice and drew herself up a little more stiffly. “My dear child,” she said to Ethel, “after a careful perusal of your epistle, I fail to see the slightest necessity for adding to it, or altering it by so much as a single word. It is severe, but not unduly so considering the circumstances which have given rise to it, and you seem to me to have nowhere overstepped that impalpable boundary which, be the nature of her communication whatever it may, no gentlewoman who respects herself can afford to ignore.” Here Miss Matilda paused and looked inquiringly at Miss Jane. “I am in full accord, sister, with all that you have said,” remarked the latter in reply to the look. “Considering the peculiar difficulties with which the dear girl had to contend, it seems to me that she has expressed herself quite admirably.”