Marian seemed to think I had given her a great many dreadful “slams”; but I could not see it so. “I am sure I did not,” I said. “Oh, no,” she answered quite sarcastically, “not at all.” But she seemed to bear me no ill-will. Virginia said I wanted them to be good and virtuous. No, I said, I had not thought of that. “Perhaps,” she suggested, “good but not virtuous, or virtuous but not good?” I answered: “All I want you to do is to satisfy yourselves.” “Is that all!” exclaimed Marian. “After you told us how we could never be wholly satisfied, how we should always want something more!” “The beautiful life must be harmonious,” I said. “Disjointed beauty is not beautiful. You remember, we spoke of the city, how a beautiful house might be made to look not at all beautiful by being placed next to a high wall, or in any position where it did not fit; how the city could not be beautiful until all the people combined to build a harmonious city.” “By itself the house would be beautiful, anyway,” they said. “Yes,” I answered, “but in ugly surroundings its beauty would be half lost.” Virginia said: “If I saw a very beautiful little girl between two ugly monkeys, I think the little girl would look all the more beautiful.” Marian answered: “I would immediately imagine her petting or fondling the two monkeys, and then it would look beautiful.” It turned out, however, that Virginia’s monkeys were figurative, and that she meant ugly children. This was disconcerting to Ruth, Marian and Florence, and caused prolonged giggles. I said that would simply be contrast, not discord, that contrast might please and make even the ugly look beautiful, but discord, two beautiful houses so placed together that neither looked well, two colors that “killed” each other, these were ugly. Beauty had to find for itself or make for itself the right surroundings, in order to be truly beautiful. Florence said: “I think it is a shame people should be liked just for their looks. I know girls who are liked just because they are pretty, when there’s nothing to them, and others who are homely, but much nicer, who are liked less. I try never to let it influence me.” Henry said he never did let it; that he always liked people for what they really were, and not for looks. “I can’t help it,” said Virginia. “I know a girl who is horrid in every way, and when she is away I can’t bear her; but the minute I see her I forgive her, because she is so beautiful.” “Perhaps,” I said, “if you knew her from the inside, as she knows herself, you might think that no one could help liking her.” “No,” said Virginia; “she’s one of the people who, I feel sure, cannot think that of herself.” Marian agreed with Virginia. She said when she met people she was interested in the good-looking ones, and always judged them by their faces.