only mean that I think myself better than other people. I dare say that is true."
"Indeed, it is not true," cried Judith indignantly. "The only trouble with Dorris is that she sees her faults too plainly for her own happiness."
"Well," I said, laughing, "I must be a very enigmatical person, to call forth two opinions so exactly the opposite of each other."
George looked from me to Judith, and from her back again to me, with a covert amusement in his face which puzzled me.
"I know you better than Count Piloff does," insisted my champion, with a brilliant red spot in each cheek.
He smiled. "You asked me for my opinion, Miss Judith, and now you are finding fault with me for giving it."
"No, not for giving it; for having such an utterly foolish one."
Here we all laughed, and Judith said, "I insist upon your telling him what you think about him, Dorris,—whether you agree with me that he is unforgiving."
"But has she not already allowed that she has never given the subject a thought?"
"No," said I hastily; "it was you who said that. I did not agree to it."
"Very well, then. Let us hear it."
"I was only going to say," I began slowly, "that you have too little depth of feeling to be unforgiving. It is not so politely expressed as your opinion of me, but it is quite as flattering."
9