at Stanmer. "I have become very fond of him."
"Bel tipo inglese," said my hostess. "And he is very intelligent; he has a beautiful mind."
She stood there resting her smile and her clear, expressive eyes upon me.
"I don't like to praise him too much," I rejoined, "lest I should appear to praise myself; he reminds me so much of what I was at his age. If your beautiful mother were to come to life for an hour she would see the resemblance."
She gave me a little amused stare.
"And yet you don't look at all like him!"
"Ah, you didn't know me when I was twenty five. I was very handsome! And, moreover, it isn't that, it's the mental resemblance. I was ingenuous, candid, trusting, like him."
"Trusting? I remember my mother once telling me that you were the most suspicious and jealous of men!"
"I fell into a suspicious mood, but I was, fundamentally, not in the least addicted to thinking evil. I couldn't easily imagine any harm of any one."
