"My dear Sir Edward!" she laughed. "We all have something of the mountebank in our natures. He plays it best, who plays it the most, and shows it the least." "Fine philosophy!" he commented. "Such cynicism may be permissible in a man, but it is _not_, many times _not_, in a woman." "The men seem to like it," she answered. He shook his head. "They like _you_--they have not seen the cynicism." "And if they do see it?" He raised his eye-brows, expressively. "I do not know--perhaps, and perhaps not." "With the chances?" "Not, decidedly not!" "I take you for an adept," she said--"as one well qualified to advise on the subject." "Then, abandon it--throw it overboard. A woman should be an optimist--cynicism repels." "Yet you are a cynic." "All men are cynical; they must be to get on with one another--and with the women." "Another burden for us to bear!" she laughed. "Is Miss Marbury a cynic or an optimist?" "I should judge her to be very much the optimist." "And hence the easier to understand, and the easier to hoodwink." He looked at her, with a bit of a smile. "And for just that reason, less liable to be hoodwinked. Sincerity begets sincerity, if the man be really a man." "And cynicism begets cynicism?" He bowed. "I am speaking generally, of course." She prodded the turf with her toe, and thought: "I suppose you are right," she said; "you have had the experience, you ought to know. But, how many of the women you meet in London are optimists, think you?" "Very few," he smiled. "And why?--why?--Because you men have taught us to be cynics. You lie to us in word and deed, you deceive us, often to our shame, until we must fight back with the weapons God has given us. Even now, you are contemplating a campaign against Miss Marbury, attracted by that very optimism which should make her an easy conquest." He held up his hands in protestation. "My dear lady! your imagination is wonderful--you are a very child in fancy--the dark must be full of queer things to you." She laughed, a little, tantalizing laugh, and shot him a knowing look from under her long lashes. "We shall see," she said: "I _may_ be wrong, and, if I am, you have the proving of it." "And, meanwhile, what of _your_ campaign for Mr. Richard Maynadier?" he asked. For a moment, she did not reply, regarding him, thoughtfully, the while. "What has Mr. Richard Maynadier to do with the proposition?" she said, coldly. "I do not know--it is for you to answer." "There is no answer," she replied, looking him straight in the eyes. He bowed and kissed her hand. "As you wish, my lady," he said, making no effort to repress his smile; "as you wish."