Among women, I venture to think, friendship is not temperamental, it is an accomplishment; and, at the risk of bringing down upon my devoted head an avalanche of feminine contradiction, I make bold to say that real friendship, as understood by men, is rare between women, though nearly every woman cherishes a “dearest friend.” A woman’s “dearest friend” is her familiar gossip, her partisan, but seldom, if ever, the companion of her soul, the true confidante of her inner self. Of course, both she and her “dearest friend” would indignantly repudiate this assertion, and vow that they severally tell each other _everything_, that their confidence is mutual and complete; but then dissimulation is so inherent in women that they are not aware of it. They are not analysing creatures as a rule, and they would as soon admit their natural dissimulation, or their incapacity for friendship with their own sex, from a man’s point of view, as any of us would own to lacking a sense of humour, or being no connoisseurs in matters of art. I believe that men can teach women friendship, though, perhaps, not until they have learnt the great lesson of love, for which they have a natural intuition. Then, women may be the friends of men, and very true and enduring friends too; but between woman and woman I doubt, as a rule, whether you would find the same kind of friendship as between man and man, or even as between man and woman, for women seldom trust each other entirely—of course, always taking into consideration the necessary proof of exceptions. But of “dearest friends” there is no lack—indeed some women occupy this position in a kind of wholesale way. They make “dearest friendship” the business of their lives, and prosecute it in quite a professional fashion; and, of course, those who are “dearest friends” to a large _clientèle_ become obviously better and more comprehensive gossips. Mrs. Meanwell is one of these; she is a general favourite, and carries with her an amiability as alluring as it is indiscriminate and universal. As a “dearest friend,” therefore, she is in constant and general demand, and consequently she is a veritable Pantechnicon of personal gossip. This vocation has been hers since her earliest schooldays, when she was the recipient of all the other little girls’ confidences in rotation, and, though uniformly cheery and good-tempered, she was often the cause of heart-burning in others. For, how could she be expected to respect the secrets of her quondam friends when they had quarrelled with her “dearest friend” of the moment?