'But, Mr Nevill, how about the azaleas saving your life?' 'Ah, little Alice, the impatience of youth! I remember when I was your age I was consumed by impatience. So impetuous was my curiosity, they called me Who-What-When-Where-How, as though I was a gorgon, or a bogie, or a giant in his castle.' 'Mr Nevill,' said Alice, with dignity, gathering her skirt close to her, and drawing herself up to her full height as she rose from breakfast, 'what age do you think I am? You treat me as if I was a child.' 'Fourteen? fifteen? sixteen? seventeen? eighteen?--' 'Yes, quite eighteen.' 'Bless my soul! so you are. I never noticed it until now. I never noticed before the crowsfeet, the puckers about the mouth, the feeble gait, the dim eye, the trembling hand, the silver threads among the gold: it isn't gold, by-the-way, but its nearly nicer than gold. Ah, madam, you will pardon the levity of your most humble slave. If by the sprightliness of your sallies and the vivacity of your air I have been misled into treating you with a lightness unbecoming in me to one of your age, forgive me. Permit me, revered madam, to lend you the support of my arm.' 'Now, Mr Nevill, don't be too ridiculous.' 'Do not refuse my arm, my apology, and my offer of future homage. Permit me to assist you to the conservatory, and while I am there waiting for your granddaughter Kate to get ready for a stroll I'll tell you all about the azaleas, and all about everything else I know, except one thing.' 'And what is the one thing you will not tell me?' 'How much I like my Kate's grandmother.' They were now ascending the stairs. 'If I spoke all day long, madam, I could not tell you that. You must know, madam, my Kate has a dainty little sister, who is to be my sister one of these days, and for whom I have the warmest possible affection; and I want to talk to you, madam, about her and about her brother George.' They were now in the little conservatory. 'You see, madam,' he continued, 'George's mother is very uneasy about George on religious subjects, and so is Marie, or anyway so she was. Now last night, after we had all gone to our rooms, George came to mine. We had a long chat, and George told me all.' 'Is "all" much?' the young girl asked apprehensively. 'I knew there was something wrong. I did not know what, and now I do not know how much. Tell me all about it.' 'Well, to be brief, George has been making a fool of himself over a few scientific books, until he has got his head, which is not at all suited to science any more than is yours, dear madam, into a muddle; and he thinks no one can reconcile or understand things he can't reconcile or understand; and he is unsettled in his mind about his faith just now. All thoughtful men are at one time or another. It is only women and asses who are quite sure of everything.' 'Mr Nevill, I will not stand and hear--'