take a great deal to make you angry, but that when your wrath is once aroused, it is deep. I should say it would be difficult for you to forgive."
He was looking attentively at one of the pictures, turned it round to see the artist's name on the back, and then showed it to me. "When did you have this taken?"
"Just before I left America."
"It is very poor." And before I could say "Thank you!" he spoke abruptly to Judith: "So you think that I am unforgiving? What does Miss Dorris Romilly think?" playing absently with the photograph, and speaking as if his mind were somewhere else.
Judith broke in, as I was hesitating what to reply, "I know what she is going to say. She is preparing to tell you, in her most sarcastic manner, that she has never thought about it at all."
George laughed, with a tinge of bitterness.
"Why should she think about it?" looking at me with what seemed like unnecessary earnestness. "I was insufferably conceited to imagine that she had given an instant's attention to such an insignificant subject as my character."
"If I had done so," said I, smothering a yawn, "doubtless you suppose that my judgment of you would be different from Judith's."
"Yes," resuming the study of the photograph. "If you have any opinion of me, I should say it was not a favorable one."
"Why do you say that?" I asked, beginning to feel interested.
