Ethelberta laughed. 'If Heaven does not tell you at the moment I
cannot,' she said. 'But humanity looks with a different eye from love,
and upon the whole it is most to be prized by all of us. I believe it
ends oftener in marriage than do a lover's flying smiles. So that for
this and other reasons love from a stranger is mostly worthless as a
speculation; and it is certainly dangerous as a game. Well, Picotee, has
any one paid you real attentions yet?'

'No--that is--'

'There is something going on.'

'Only a wee bit.'

'I thought so. There was a dishonesty about your dear eyes which has
never been there before, and love-making and dishonesty are inseparable
as coupled hounds. Up comes man, and away goes innocence. Are you going
to tell me anything about him?'

'I would rather not, Ethelberta; because it is hardly anything.'

'Well, be careful. And mind this, never tell him what you feel.'

'But then he will never know it.'

'Nor must he. He must think it only. The difference between his
thinking and knowing is often the difference between your winning and
losing. But general advice is not of much use, and I cannot give more
unless you tell more. What is his name?'