Belle Treherne, noticing the direction
of my glances, said: "Have you known Mrs. Falchion long?"
"No, not long," I replied. "Only since she came on board."
"She is very clever, I believe."
I felt my face flushing, though, reasonably, there was no occasion for
it, and I said: "Yes, she is one of the ablest women I have ever met."
"She is beautiful, too--very beautiful." This very frankly.
"Have you talked with her?" asked I.
"Yes, a little this morning, for the first time. She did not speak much,
however." Here Miss Treherne paused, and then added meditatively: "Do you
know, she impressed me as having singular frankness and singular reserve
as well? I think I admired it. There is no feeling in her speech, and yet
it has great candour. I never before met any one like her. She does not
wear her heart upon her sleeve, I imagine."
A moment of irony came over me; that desire to say what one really does
not believe (a feminine trait), and I replied: "Are both those articles
necessary to any one? A sleeve?--well, one must be clothed. But a
heart?--a cumbrous thing, as I take it."
Belle Treherne turned, and looked me steadily in the eyes for an instant,
as if she had suddenly awakened from abstraction, and slowly said, while
she drew back slightly: "Dr.
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