"Well, I will not say who they were,--I must keep something for my 'literary reminiscences' when I get old! Then all these people will be named, and go down to posterity as Dante's enemies went down to Dante's hell! I have only told you the incident just to show you why I asked you if you meant it, when you invited me to visit you at Willowsmere. Because the baron and baroness I have spoken of 'gushed' over me and my poor books to such an extent that you would have fancied I was to be for evermore one of their dearest friends,--and they _didn't_ mean it! Other people I know embrace me effusively and invite me to their houses, and _they_ don't mean it! And when I find out these shams, I like to make it very clear on my own side that I do not seek to be embraced or invited, and that if certain great folks deem it a 'favour' to ask me to their houses, I do not so consider it, but rather think the 'favour' is entirely on my part if I accept the invitation. And I do not say this for my own self at all,--self has nothing to do with it,--but I do say it and strongly assert it for the sake of the dignity of Literature as an art and profession. If a few other authors would maintain this position, we might raise the standard of letters by degrees to what it was in the old days of Scott and Byron. I hope you do not think me too proud?" "On the contrary, I think you are quite right"--said Sibyl earnestly--"And I admire you for your courage and independence. Some of the aristocracy are, I know, such utter snobs that often I feel ashamed to belong to them. But as far as we are concerned, I can only assure you that if you will honour us by becoming our friend as well as neighbour, you shall not regret it. Do try and like me if you can!" She bent forward with a witching smile on her fair face. Mavis looked at her seriously and admiringly. "How beautiful you are!" she said frankly--"Everybody tells you this of course,--still, I cannot help joining in the general chorus. To me, a lovely face is like a lovely flower,--I must admire it. Beauty is quite a divine thing, and though I am often told that the plain people are always the good people, I never can quite believe it. Nature is surely bound to give a beautiful face to a beautiful spirit." Sibyl, who had smiled with pleasure at the first words of the open compliment paid her by one of the most gifted of her own sex, now flushed deeply. "Not always, Miss Clare,"--she said, veiling her brilliant eyes beneath the droop of her long lashes--"One can imagine a fair fiend as easily as a fair angel."