"Because that remark was so entirely like her," she replied. "Well," he returned, "there is no denying that I have formed myself upon her, and though the fact reveals me in all my shallow imitative weakness, I can offer the apology that the means justifies the end. Upon the whole, I am glad to be detected, as it points to a measure of success in the attempt." "But," she went on, "she tells me that she has formed herself upon you." "Ah!" he said; "she meant you to repeat it to me, her design being to betray me into a display of intoxicated vanity." "She is very fond of you," she remarked. "I am very fond of her," he answered, quickly--and then relapsing into his usual manner--"though that is not a qualification sufficiently rare to distinguish me." "No," she said, "it is not." Then she gave Bertha one of the glances. "It was very thoughtful in you to take her into the conservatory," she said. "I was startled to see how pale she looked as you left the room." "She is not strong," he said, "and she insists on ignoring the fact." "Do you know," said Mrs. Sylvestre, "that was what struck me when we met for the first time in the autumn--that she was not strong. She used to be strong." "If she would accept the fact she would get over it," he said; "but she won't." "I met her first at Newport," said Mrs. Sylvestre, "just after Janey's illness. For a day or so I felt that I did not know her at all; but in course of time I got over the feeling; or she changed--I scarcely know which. I suppose the strain during the little girl's illness had been very severe?" "There is no doubt of that," said Arbuthnot; "and her anxiety had been much exaggerated." "I shall see a great deal of her this winter," she returned, "and perhaps I may persuade her to take care of herself." He spoke with a touch of eager seriousness in his manner. "I wish you would," he said. "It is what she needs, that some woman should call her attention to the mistake she is making." "I will try to do it," she responded, gently. "I am fond of her too." "And you intend remaining in Washington?" he asked. "Yes. I have had no plans for three years. When first it dawned on me that it would interest me to make plans again, I thought of Washington. I have found a house in Lafayette Square, and I think I shall be established in it, with the assistance of my aunt, who is to live with me, in about three weeks." "That sounds very agreeable," he remarked. "I shall hope to make it sufficiently so," she said. "Will you come sometimes to see if my efforts are successful?" "If you knew how unworthy I am," he responded, "even my abject gratitude for your kindness would not repay you for it." "Are you so very unworthy?" she was beginning, when her eyes appeared to be caught by some object at the other side of the room.