"I'm not so foolish as I look, Mr. Cordis," said she, rather sharply. She
was not going to let him think he could turn the head of every Newville
girl as he had Madeline's with his city airs and compliments.

"You might be, and not mind owning it," he replied, making an excuse of
her words to scrutinise her face with a frank admiration that sent the
colour to her cheeks, though she was more vexed than pleased.

"I mean that I don't like flattery."

"Are you sure?" he asked, with apparent surprise.

"Of course I am. What a question!"

"Excuse me; I only asked because I never met any one before who didn't."

"Never met anybody who didn't like to be told things about themselves
which they knew weren't true, and were just said because somebody thought
they were foolish enough to believe 'em?"

"I don't expect you to believe 'em yourself," he replied; "only vain
people believe the good things people say about them; but I wouldn't give
a cent for friends who didn't think better of me than I think of myself,
and tell me so occasionally, too."

They stood a moment at Laura's gate, and just then Henry, coming home
from the gun-shop of which he was foreman, passed them, and entered the
house. "Is that your brother?" asked Cordis.