to be mutually pleased with each other, and managed to maintain between us a cheerful and animated, though not very profound conversation. It was little better than a tête-à-tête, for Miss Millward never opened her lips, except occasionally to correct some random assertion or exaggerated expression of her sister's, and once to ask her to pick up the ball of cotton, that had rolled under the table. I did this myself, however, as in duty bound.
"Thank you, Mr. Markham," said she, as I presented it to her. "I would have picked it up myself; only I did not want to disturb the cat."
"Mary, dear, that won't excuse you in Mr. Markham's eyes," said Eliza; "he hates cats, I dare say, as cordially as he does old maids—like all other gentlemen—Don't you Mr. Markham?"
"I believe it is natural for our unamiable sex, to dislike the creatures," replied I; "for you ladies lavish so many caresses upon them."
