"Imagine any one speaking unkindly of you—not praising you!"
"Who has praised me to you?" she asked, quickly.
"I haven't talked about you with any one; but if I did, I know they'd———"
"No, no!" she cried, and went on, again accompanying her words with little tremulous runs of laughter. "You don't understand this town yet. You'll be surprised when you do; we're different. We talk about one another fearfully! Haven't I just proved it, the way I've been going for Henrietta? Of course I didn't say anything really very terrible about her, but that's only because I don't follow that practise the way most of the others do. They don't stop with the worst of the truth they can find: they make up things—yes, they really do! And, oh, I'd rather they didn't make up things about me—to you!"
"What difference would it make if they did?" he inquired, cheerfully. "I'd know they weren't true."
"Even if you did know that, they'd make a difference," she said. "Oh, yes, they would! It's too bad, but we don't like anything quite so well that's had specks on it, even if we've wiped the specks off;—it's just that much spoiled, and some
