"You won't be advised?"

She was passing him swiftly, with the manner of a busy housewife, when
Max, encouraged by her new reserve, and a demure side-look, which was
not without coquetry, seized the hand which held the kettle, and asked
her if he was to get no thanks for coming to her assistance as he had
done.

"I did thank you," said she, not attempting to withdrew her hand, but
standing, grave and with downcast eyes, between him and the door.

"Well, in a way, you did. But you didn't thank me enough. You yourself
admit it was a bold thing for a stranger to do!"

The girl looked suddenly up into his face, and again he saw in her
expressive eyes a look which was altogether new. Like flashes of
lightning the changes passed over her small, mobile features, to which
the absence of even a tinge of healthy pink color gave, perhaps, an
added power of portraying the emotions which might be agitating her.
There was now something like defiance in her eyes.

"What was your boldness compared to mine?" said she. "You are a man; you
have strong arms, at any rate, I suppose. I am only a girl, and you are
a gentleman, and gentlemen are not chivalrous. Who dared the most then,
you or I?"

"So gentlemen are not chivalrous?" said Max, ignoring the last part of
her speech. "All gentlemen are not, I suppose you mean? Or rather, all
the men who ought to be gentlemen?"